


teach me how to say goodbye

by Aria_Cinabun, taye_z



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Afterlife, Angst, Animal Death, Gen, Ghosts, Hardcore, MANS DIED AND CAVES UPDATED, Minor Injuries, No Romance, Non-Graphic Violence, Out of Character, Respawn AU, Slow To Update, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, War, and injury, blood warning, inconsistent updates, its not gory but like injuries ouch :(, my mans dead, of course theres swearing tommys the main character, there is blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 48,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Cinabun/pseuds/Aria_Cinabun, https://archiveofourown.org/users/taye_z/pseuds/taye_z
Summary: With his head held high, Tommy walked to his death. But man, was he willing to sacrifice himself for his nation.He stood, bow in hand, staring down the man who caused him so much fear, so much anger, so much pain.No hesitation was present as he pulled back the string, hoping to at least go out with a bang.OrLocal Hamilton role-player dies and has to survive the afterlife.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), None
Comments: 847
Kudos: 2406
Collections: Certified Good Shit™, Found family to make me feel something





	1. Reference for the AU

Hey I’m just going to get this out of the way real quick. Read if you want the basic info on this au.

Each war begins with a certain amount of respawns. In this case, the L’manburg War had only one respawn. This applies to both sides in the war.

It’s common courtesy to not permanently kill someone in war. Even if the war is very intense, permanently killing someone is something nobody wants to do. Once everyone on your side of the war has no more respawns, you forfeit.

Because of this, people aren’t exactly sure what happens when you die. There are rumors of an afterlife where you have one more chance to live again, but they have never been confirmed.

That is all. Hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter One

The sun was setting on the horizon. It was beautiful. A beauty that went unnoticed by the group of five people walking towards a hill.

The man in the lead stopped, and turned to his companions. “I’ve been working and grinding hard for this. I hope you're excited.”

The rest of the group let out murmurs as they tried to puzzle out what this ‘surprise’ was. The man in the lead smiled. “Come on now, let’s go.”

The group traveled far into the underground. They reached a room. A sign hanging from the ceiling read ‘Final Control Room.’

The blonde boy loudly spoke up. “Is it a nuke?”

The leader laughed, a hearty chuckle tainted by exhaustion. “No, no. You’ll see.”

The four people filed into the room. The room itself was fairly basic. The most noticeable items were four chests, each one named after a member.

The short, brown hair boy rushed in front. “Wow! Is this really for us?”

They all ran to their designated chest. The fox-man opened his chest in excitement, before stopping cold. “Wait… there’s nothing in here.”

The four people were too preoccupied to notice the traitor's smug smile as he slowly moved back towards the wall.

The loud boy, after checking his chest, noticed a button in the middle of the room. “Hey, what does this do?” He pressed his hand down.

Chaos erupted in the small, cramped room as the walls opened up. Four people, armored to the teeth, poured in. There were shouts of pain and confusion as the brown haired boy and the humanoid fox were felled.

_Tubbo_ was slain by Sapnap._

_ItsFundy was slain by Punz._

The curly haired man, silent until now, turned to look the traitor dead in his eyes. Even though he had sunglasses, the president still met his gaze with his own hopeless stare.

“Eret. How could you?”

_WilburSoot was slain by GeorgeNotFound._

The blonde gasped, turning to run.

“Down with the revolution, boys.”

He ran down the tunnel. A stray arrow struck him in his shoulder. It hurt like hell, but he ran still.

“It was never meant to be.”

He staggered outside. He was the last one left, he had to live.

His communicator started to vibrate intensely in his pocket. The chat was being filled with angry notes from his comrades, and victorious notes from the opposing side. That’s how the Dream Team didn’t notice the message.

_TommyInnit was shot by skeleton._


	3. Chapter Two

There was never a declared forfeit. The Dream Team was operating under the assumption that Tommy had lived.

The people of L’manburg were unsure about what to do. If they admitted that Tommy was killed by a mob, and that none of them had any repawns left, they would be forced to forfeit. They _definitely_ didn’t want to forfeit. 

But at the same time, they couldn’t win anymore. They, unfortunately, came to the agreement that they had to surrender.

The two sides met on a hill. L’manburg was visible, and even from the distance the people were meeting, the destruction was very apparent. 

Tommy watched the members on the Dream SMP carefully. They all seemed very smug, all except for George. The color blinded soldier seemed very unsure as he met Wilbur’s eyes. George was the obvious pacifist forced into a war. Tommy almost felt bad for the guy. Almost.

Dream, despite his mask, was clearly grinning. Him and Wilbur were negotiating surrender. Tommy couldn't bring himself to listen.

Tommy couldn’t believe that they had fought so hard, just for it to all come crashing down. No, his nation couldn’t fall like this. He vaguely remembered shoving Wilbur aside. He yelled at Dream, and in his anger, he could remember challenging Dream to a duel. Later, he thinks the only reason Dream agreed was because Dream thought Tommy still had a respawn. Or maybe not. Maybe Dream just thirsted for war.

He was pulled aside by Wilbur, but the damage was already done. The duel was already scheduled to happen at sundown. Sundown was in about two minutes.

Two more minutes left to live.

He remembered Fundy shoving his bow into his hands. He remembered hugging Tubbo, the most blatant affection he had ever shown towards his friend. He remembered Wilbur’s obvious fear as he attempted to reassure the boy before his final fight.

It happened too fast. One second he was living, breathing, living without pain and the constant fear of death. Next, he was on the ground, coughing up blood. Shit. That couldn’t be good.

He pressed his hand against the wound. That didn't stop the blood from spilling over his fingers, painting his hand and uniform in dark shades of red. It was quite beautiful, in the same way death was beautiful.

He remembered the shouting. He remembered somebody grabbing his shoulders. He remembered Tubbo shouting. “He was on his last respawn, you fucking idiot!” Tubbo never yelled before. It scared him, just a little bit.

It finally clicked that he was _dying. For real._ Panic seized him. He had to say something. He mustered the strength to stutter out his last words.

"In... my front... pocket..." He coughed again. He felt someone feel around his chest, and pull out the note he had wrote. He smiled, at peace.

It started to get hazy. He could hear somebody telling him to focus, to just hold on while Fundy got a healing potion. He tried, he really did. But it was too hard.

He was fading into the dark. He couldn’t keep his hand on his stomach. It dropped to the side as he took his last shuddering breath.

The last thing he remembered was the scream of sadness and pain that came from his best friend.

And then he was gone.

_TommyInnit left the game._

* * *

_Hey Bitches._

_You're only supposed to read this if I'm dead. That would suck a lot. How would the world keep going if I'm dead?_

_Well, worst come to worst, I have perished probably very epically. Tell the women crying over my sad death that it's alright, and they can move on._

_If Dream still hasn't let our nation have ~~independance~~ independence after my very noble sacrifice, then give him my disks. Tubbo knows the code to my ender chest. This is my final wish. And you better fucking fulfill it. I don't want to die in vain (if I die at all). (Very unlikely.)_

_Goodbye, I guess._

_-Tommy_

_P.S. Call whoever killed me a scumbag_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if it seems short, chapters will be longer in the future i hope :)


	4. Chapter Three

Tommy woke up in a field of grass and flowers. He heard bumblebees happily buzzing. The pain in his chest was gone. In fact, all his former wounds were gone.

He sat up.

It looked like a plains biome, but something was off. The sun seemed too bright, there were too many flowers. Where were the trees? It was just grass and flowers as far as the eye could see. He shakily rose to his feet. Where was he?

He almost immediately noticed that he was missing his uniform. Instead, he was wearing a red and white baseball tee. His favorite shirt. He patted down his pockets. _Shit._ He didn't have his communicator anymore.

He heard something shuffling behind him. He whirled around, reaching for his sword. He came up empty handed. 

The horse looked at him, with what he swore was a disgruntled face, before it trotted off. He let out his breath.

Tommy was very confused now. Where the fuck was he?

He spotted a village far in the distance. Maybe the villagers there could help. The sun was halfway across the sky already. With nothing else to do, he started walking.

After a while of trekking, he noticed a bee trailing after him. Tubbo liked bees. Where was Tubbo? He was becoming more and more worried.

He paused. He was no closer to the village. The bee finally caught up to him. It pressed itself against his fingers. He couldn’t help but smile, raising the bee to his eyes.

“Hey there, little guy.” The bee buzzed in what he assumed was greeting. _I’ve gone insane,_ he thought. _I’m talking to a bloody bee!_ But there was nobody else around, and an extrovert had to make do with what they got.

He walked and talked. The bee seemed to resemble Tubbo’s bee, Spins. Tommy had accidentally killed Spins, and after a small skirmish, Tubbo had gotten another one. Tommy thinks he never properly apologized to Tubbo. He dubbed his striped companion after his friend’s dead pet, for time's sake.

Him and Spins were somewhat close to the village when night fell. Mobs started spawning. Tommy began to panic again. He hadn’t seen any trees at all, and he was completely defenseless. An arrow whizzes past his head. “Shit!”

That was it. Holding Spins close to his chest, Tommy ran.

He didn’t get very far before a creeper decided that it’s time had come. The explosion wasn’t that close, but still threw the boy back.

He ran towards the hole the green bomb had made. Picking up the discarded blocks, he boxed himself in. He took a moment to breathe. Spins hummed. Tommy smiled tiredly. “It’s alright, buddy. We’re safe.”

That was perhaps the most uncomfortable night ever.

* * *

When Tommy finally heard the zombies burning, he broke out of his earthy prison. The too-bright sun rose again, bathing the valley in a happy glow. Tommy felt anything but.

He stomped in the direction of the village. He was tired, grumpy, and confused. Spins flew along beside him. It was going to be another long day of walking.

It was quite uneventful. Tommy rambled on to his insect companion. Every so often, he would pause and think _what the shit is happening?_ But Spins always nudged him to continue, so he did.

The horse from before showed up around mid-day. Tommy, after burning off his anger which may or may not have involved cussing out multiple rocks he stumbled over, was intrigued by the white horse.

He attempted approaching it, but the horse skidded off before Tommy got close. He waited until the horse came closer before trying something different.

“Hello, horse! I’m Tommy!” He slowly edged towards the horse. This time, it seemed less frightened.

“I, quite frankly, don’t know where I am. You wouldn’t happen to know, would you?” The horse nickered, as if it were attempting to reply. Tommy almost burst out laughing at the idea of a talking horse, but managed not to. 

“You’re kind of handsome, don’t you know?” The horse tosses its head proudly. Tommy grinned, finally being able to place his hand on the horse's side.

“Y’know, you remind me of a spirit.” The horse let out a bunch of excited noises once Tommy said that. This time, Tommy couldn’t help but burst out laughing. "Is that your name, then? Spirit?” Spirit bobbed his head.

Tommy pointed towards the distant hope of civilization. "That's where we're headed. You wanna tag along?"

Now Tommy had a bee and a horse accompanying him. It felt like some weird fever dream. He assumed Spirit wouldn’t let Tommy ride him, so he continued his trek on his own two feet. The village was getting closer and closer.

Maybe he could finally get some answers about what the hell was going on.


	5. Chapter Four

The sun was not far from setting when Tommy and his companions reached the village. It seemed quite small from a distance, but now that he was here, Tommy realized how large it actually was. There was a huge cobblestone wall lining the city, going as far to the left and right as he could see. He cautiously approached the front gate.

The villager on duty looked up once he approached. Tommy had never seen a village wearing armour before. Not only that, but the villagers hands were exposed, currently tossing a sword from one hand to another. Quite a strange sight, indeed.

The villager asked him a question in a language he didn’t understand. Tommy hopeless gave the guard a look. “Uh, sir? I-Im not quite sure where I am, and I can’t understand you. But do you think you can help me?”

The guard sized him up. Tommy noticed the sad look the village gave him before he turned to somebody inside the wall. The villager said something in the same language as before, and the gates were slowly opened. Tommy stared at the city in front of him. He briefly wondered how the houses inside were made out of wood, considering there were no apparent forests around. The villager made a noise, and once he had Tommy’s attention, he gestured to follow him.

Tommy couldn’t help but gape at the bustling people all cleaning up for the day. The organized chaos reminded him of a very old place he used to live _no don’t think about that._

The villager led him and his animal companions towards a large house in the town square. Tommy tried to ignore all the looks he got, but it was hard not to. Most of them were full of pity. Why?

The villager knocked on the door of the house. After a few seconds, a person opened the door. He seemed slightly familiar to Tommy, but he couldn’t place why.

The two villagers conversed for a few moments before the owner of the house waved for them to come in. Unfortunately, Spirit was too big to fit. The guard said something to the white stallion, and led him away. Tommy tried not to worry about him too much. It was just a horse, after all.

Him and Spins followed the villager into his house. It was quite nice inside. The villager went and sat down at the table. Tommy sat across from him. He awkwardly shifted under the gaze of the person across the table. He totally did not jump at all when the villager suddenly spoke in English.

“Well. What brings you here?” He said with a faint accent.

Tommy stared at the villager with wide eyes. The villager raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

Stuttering over his words, Tommy quickly started talking. “W-well, uh, I was in a war and challenged this guy to duel even though I had no more respawns left, and then I wake up here and please tell me where am I? Also, how come you speak English?”

The villager studied him with forlorn eyes. “Ah, another war victim, eh?” Tommy nodded, not really understanding what the house owner was saying.

“You’re quite a young lad, aren’t you? That’s quite a shame.” The villager stood and walked towards the kitchen.

Tommy, who didn't like where this conversation was going, also stood. “What the fuck do you mean?”

The villager shot him a look. “Sit back down, I’m just getting something to drink.” He resumed rummaging through the cupboards. “You like tea?”

Tommy sat back down. “Uh, I suppose. I’ll take whatever you have.” He impatiently shifted back and forth waiting for the man to come back with the tea. Spins sat on his shoulder, probably sleeping.

After what felt like an eternity, the villager returned with two steaming mugs. He slid one over to Tommy, who took a sip. It didn’t taste half bad.

The villager sat across from him with a sigh. “Well, how do I put this? You ever heard of the Afterlife?”

Tommy felt fear sinking into his stomach. He tried to ignore it. “Yes, of course I have. I’m not an idiot.”

A small smile appeared on the villager’s face. “You remind me of somebody I used to know. Anyways, do you want me to blunt with you?”

Tommy nodded. The villager took a drink from his mug. “First, I should answer your question from before. You wanted to know how I’m speaking your language?”

Tommy almost started yelling. The villager says he would be blunt, and then he dodges around the question? But alas, Tommy restrained from giving the man a piece of his mind. “Yeah, sure. I’ve never met a villager who could speak English.”

The villager’s smile grew. “Ah, but I’m not.”

Tommy sat there. He didn’t quite know how to respond. “The fuck you mean your not? How else would I be able to know what you’re saying?”

The villager sighed. “It’s quite a simple thing, really. All you have to do is willingly try to understand what the person you’re speaking to is saying. Vise versa for if you want the person to understand you.”

Tommy, for one of the first times in his life, was at a loss for words. The villager either didn’t notice or didn’t really mind. “You could even communicate with your animal friends.” 

Tommy reached and gently pet Spins' head before speaking again. “How the hell is that possible?”

He winked. “You learn quite a lot once you’ve died.”

At first, Tommy didn’t notice what he had said. His hand dropped to his side as he processed what he was told, before finally saying the first thing that came to mind. “What?”

The villager settled back in his chair. “You said before you died without having any respawns left? Well, my friend, I welcome you to the Afterlife.”

Tommy didn’t believe it. He stood abruptly, his companion letting out a startled buzz before moving to sleep in his hair. Tommy didn’t notice, instead keeping his eyes on the man across from him. “You-no. You’re lying.”

The villager stood as well. “I’m not. I am sorry.”

Tommy just stood there for who knows how long. He was really dead? He could remember the arrow sticking out of his chest, but it just didn’t seem plausible. Was he dreaming? He pitched his arm. That felt real. 

He suddenly remembered everybody from back home. Was Tubbo crying? What was Dream doing, now that he ‘killed’ somebody? If he was dead, did they get his note? Did L’manburg have independence? He didn’t know, and that was frustrating to him.

He sat back down. The villager sat down across from him. Something at the back of his mind finally came back to him, and Tommy eyed the villager. “I don’t know your name.”

The villager smiled again. “My name is Jerry.”

A name that was so familiar, yet Tommy could barely remember the story behind it. _Walls crashing down, people screaming, he was running, running, they_ _stayed and fought._

He sharply looked up, meeting Jerry’s eyes. “How did you die?”

Jerry’s smile turned sad, a memory heavy behind his eyes. “I lived in a huge city. It was attacked. I defended somebody, and gave them a chance to escape.”

Tommy felt his eyes start burning. He remembered his guardian yelling at him to run, giving him a chance to live again. “Jerry? It's me. Tommy.”

Jerry’s eyes went wide with shock. Tommy couldn’t say anything else before he was crushed in a hug.

So it really was Jerry, wasn’t it?

* * *

The two finally sat back down and talked. Tommy learned that Jerry, after defending him to let Tommy escape, was stabbed through the chest. 

Tommy told Jerry everything, from the first war he fought, to the last war for independence. Jerry was a good listener. After Tommy finished his story, Jerry started telling him about Afterlife.

Every 'living' thing, including mobs, had died in one way or another. Many villages that were killed in raids had come together and built a small town, eventually flourishing into the city they lived in currently. The only way to get trees was to travel a pretty long distance. The travel distance took about a week, and that was without resting, on a very fast horse. It was very risky, since if you died here, you were gone forever. Every so often a large group will gather together and start the trek to gather more resources. Only a few would come back alive. 

There was only one way to return to living. You had to kill the ender dragon, which seems simple in concept, but this feat has only been achieved by one person. Every so often, a dead player would find their way to the city, and after a month or two, they would leave to attempt to live again. None of them ever came back, and their death messages would pop up in everyone's communicators.

Most villagers and animals had accepted the fact they would never properly live again. They were content to stay inside the safety of the city walls.

Tommy patiently listened. The idea of returning to everybody else was very tempting. Jerry must have seen the expression on his face. "You're considering going after the ender dragon, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Tommy muttered, fidgeting with his hands. "How could I not? But I've never beat the dragon, even when I could respawn." 

Jerry placed his hand on Tommy's shoulder. "I've got a friend who's very skilled at PVP. You could let him teach you, if you want a chance at all."

"I'm not fucking weak," Tommy scowled, shrugging the kind hand off his shoulder. "And I know how to PVP. I don't need to be taught like some kindergartner."

Jerry sighed. "You haven't changed at all. Follow me." 

Jerry walked outside, ending the conversation. Tommy considered being a stubborn little bitch, but since he didn't want to steal from his former guardian, he followed Jerry outside.

He trotted up to Jerry. The sky was painted in colors of orange and blue as the unnaturally bright sun finally set. "Where're we going?"

Jerry turned back with a hint of a smile. "I'm taking you to one of the best fighters we have. You're going to need training if you intend to leave, after all."


	6. Chapter Five

Now, Tommy wasn't that bad at PVP. In fact, he would consider himself to be pretty good.

But when he saw the cloaked figure whirling between the straw dummies, he really thought he was actual shit at PVP.

The person danced with a practiced lethality. In the span of a few seconds, the five dummy heads were rolling on the ground. Jerry loudly sighed. "Come on, man! I just finished stitching those back up!"

The man loudly laughed as he sheathed his sword. "Sorry, I'll help you this time. I promise."

"No, actually. You won't," Jerry scoffed "You say that every time, yet you never show up to help."

Tommy would have forced himself into the conversation by now, but since he had just watched the person decapitate five dummies with incredible speed, he opted to remain silent. The person mumbled something about being busy with farming, while picking up the dummies heads. Jerry let the poor guy suffer in the awkward silence, before he spoke up. “Did you notice there’s a player behind me?”

The person jumped, promptly dropping all the heads. He turned around, his hood still shadowing his head. “Ah shit! Does this mean I have something to do now?”

Jerry nodded. “This is Tommy. He died from an arrow wound in a duel he couldn’t win.”

Tommy decided this was the perfect time to pipe up. “It was for our independence! And I could have won, but-”

The fighter cut Tommy off before he could make various excuses. “Why is there a bee on your head?” He reached to touch Spins, which Tommy was _not_ about to let him do. Spins was sleeping, for god's sake!

“Hey bitch! Watch yourself!” He slapped the person’s hand away. In doing so, the hood covering his face fell, revealing a teenage boy with fluffy pink hair and red eyes.

“Techno?” Tommy was really going through a loop now. The person standing in front of him looked like Techno, but if Techno was Tommy’s age. There was a certain innocence in his face that the real Techno never had.

The boy smiled a silly grin, something Techno would never do, and stuck his hand out. “Yes sir! I’m Technoblade, but everyone here called me Blade!”

Tommy tentatively shook Blade’s hand. “Uh, I’m Tommy.”

A woman yelled something illegible from inside the house, and Blade looked like he just shit his pants. “I- Coming!” He hurriedly backed up towards the house. “I’ll meet you tomorrow!”

And with that, the younger Techno disappeared into the house. Tommy turned to look at Jerry, his eyes wide. “What the fuck?!”

Jerry sighed. “You ready for another story?”

They went back to Jerry’s house. Instead of sitting at the table, Jerry led Tommy to the living room. He sat in one of the armchairs, while Tommy sat on the couch. Jerry looked up at the ceiling.

“Technoblade, when he was younger, had quite the knack of dying. Didn’t matter how or when, the boy would throw himself into bad situations like his life didn’t matter.

The first time he came here, he beat the dragon easily. This was a huge ego booster, and he figured that since he had no trouble beating the dragon over and over, he could just… die, and have no consequence.

Well, he was about your age when he showed up for the last time.”

* * *

_The boy barged into Jerry’s house. Jerry jumped, almost dropping the bowl he was drying in his hands. “God, Blade! Stop just barging in like that!”_

_Blade cackled at Jerry’s response. “You wanna know how I died this time?”_

_Jerry sighed, putting the bowl into the cupboard and grabbing another one. “How did you die this time?”_

_Blade went and plopped down into one of the chairs at the table. “Well, there was this guy wearing a green hoodie, yeah? He was like ‘I can beat you!’ and I said ‘No!’ and then he stabbed me in the chest.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_Blade nodded enthusiastically. “But before he stabbed me I slashed his face up real bad! Bet it’s gonna scar.”_

_Jerry let out a quiet “mhm”, on the last bowl now. “When are you gonna go beat the dragon?”_

_Blade whistled. “Probably tonight.”_

_The bowl shattered on the ground. Jerry stared at Blade with shock. “Blade! You’re going to get yourself killed if you go now!”_

_“No, actually, I don’t think I will.” Blade pulled himself out of the chair, heading for the door. “See you in a week!”_

_Jerry watched as the boy left, not being able to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. That was the last time he saw that version of Technoblade._

* * *

“He died the following night. Fell into the void.”

Jerry stared at the door, as if re-imagining the fifteen year-old walking to his death. “Blade didn’t show up for about three years. Everyone thought he was dead, and rightfully so. But then he showed up at my door. I was shocked he was even alive. Only explanation he gave was that he never dies. He looked so much older. He said he wanted to leave a part of himself here. Something about how he was reckless, and that he felt a need to repay us. He learned some weird magic in the years he was gone, and, well, split himself.

He left the young version of himself here, the part of him that was loud and careless. He bound Blade to only help players who found themselves dead. Before he left, Techno said that he wouldn't be able to remember anything about the Afterlife. That was the last time I saw the real Technoblade.”

Tommy really didn’t know what was happening anymore. “So that pink-haired bitch is actually Techno? But Techno..." He faltered. "No. That's not Techno."

Jerry cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“Techno’s really shy but when me and him and Phil and Wilbur all get together he makes sarcastic comments. He likes to bully me, but it’s not real hate, I don’t think.” Tommy thought about the time the four of them all teamed up in a tournament they had won. He couldn't help but smile.

Jerry hummed. “So you know the real Techno, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Haven’t talked to him in a few months.” Tommy suddenly remembered he was dead. How would Phil react? Or, even worse, Techno himself, since he didn't remember there was an Afterlife?

Jerry must have read the look on his face, because he stood up and gestured to Tommy to do the same. “Well, since you’re gonna be here a while, I may as well show you the guest room.”

Jerry led him up the stairs. There were only two doors. He pointed at the left one. “That's the bedroom. The other one’s the bathroom.”

He turned to go back down the stairs. “There’s clothes under the sink in the bathroom. Use those for pajamas.” And with no more explanation, he was gone. Tommy was left standing in the hallway. He figured he might as well get changed for bed.

The bathroom was simple. A sink, toilet, and shower, just like his bathroom back at his house. He peeked under the sink, and saw multiple sets of white clothes neatly folded and stacked.

When he leaned down, Spins woke up. The bee shook himself, before going up to the window and waiting patiently. Tommy, after picking a set that looked like it would fit him, noticed Spins sitting on the window seal. “Do you wanna go out?”

Spins buzzed something. Tommy assumed it was a yes, and went to open the window. “You’ll be back, yeah?”

Spins buzzed again, and vanished into the sky. He was just a bee, a mob wouldn’t kill him, right?

Tommy took his shirt off, and went to grab the white one, but stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

He looked the same as ever. Blonde, scruffy hair with ice blue eyes. He was pretty scrawny, with very faint scars across his chest from close calls. But that wasn’t what caught his attention.

In the middle of his chest, right above his heart, was a star shaped scar.

A constant reminder that he was dead.

He turned away, pulling the soft shirt over his head. He vowed to never look in the mirror again.

* * *

_Tommy was sitting on a tree branch. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He could only watch._

_He was back at home with a view of the socializing club and the part of the path that went across the pond. A view of the place he died._

_The sky was grey, with the threat of rain looming. It was quite sad and lonely, with nobody around. Where was everyone?_

_Suddenly, as if he had appeared out of nowhere, a man was sitting on the path, dangling his feet into the water. From this distance, he was unidentifiable._

_The person’s shoulders shook, either from the cold or from sadness, Tommy wasn’t sure._

_Another person was walking down the path. He would be considerably short, even if his head wasn't lowered. He stopped behind the person sitting._

_Without looking at the other, the shorter man simply said, “I hate you.”_

_The person sitting stilled his shaking. “I hate me, too.”_

* * *

Tommy woke up in a cold sweat. The sun stubbornly shined through the curtains, giving him a small headache.

What an odd dream.


	7. Chapter Six

Tommy stomped down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. His headache didn’t seem like leaving anytime soon, and that pissed him off.

Jerry was in the kitchen, making something that smelled good. Tommy sat down at the table, putting his head in his hands. Jerry seemed to notice, but didn’t say anything. He wordlessly placed a plate in front of Tommy. Hunger is what made him lift his head to see pancakes, warm and golden brown.

Jerry rummaged through a few of the cupboards before calling over to Tommy. “You have a headache?”

Tommy stared, slightly angry, at the man. “Yeah, how did you know?”

Jerry came back with a small pill. “Most players get headaches on their first few nights here.” He put the pill and a glass of water next to Tommy’s hand. “Take this. It’ll help.”

Tommy reluctantly took the pill, downing it with the glass of water Jerry had given him. Instantly, his headache seemed to clear up. He blinked, and looked at Jerry. “Are you a fucking wizard?”

Jerry snorted. “Nah. We just have good pharmacists.” He gestured at the food in front of Tommy. “Eat up. You need the energy. Blade won’t go easy on you.”

Tommy scowled, remembering the Not-Techno, but ate the pancakes anyways.

* * *

“So! Are you ready to get beat?”

Tommy shifted his feet, getting into a stance Techno had taught him long, long ago. “No, since I’m obviously not going to get beat.”

Blade laughed, also getting into a fighting stance. “Yeah, sure.”

They both had wooden swords, as to not fatally hurt each other. They would still leave a bruise, though. Jerry watched from the side of the fighting ring, acting as the referee and medic if anything was to go wrong.

The two teenagers slowly circled each other. Tommy took a few experimental jabs, which Blade deflected easily. He decided to play defensive, and wait for Blade to wear himself down. Blade smirked. “That all you got?”

Tommy almost let his guard down, and that was when Blade attacked. Tommy was able to parry Blade’s attacks, but Blade was fast, and Tommy hadn’t practiced since… when was the last time he practiced?

* * *

_Standing in a field with Dream. George was watching. Both of them had diamond gear. Tommy held an axe in one hand, and a shield in the other._

_“So… you jump like this?” Tommy jumped, bringing the axe down on his descent. Dream blocked it with his shield._

_“No, you have to hit the shield first,_ then _jump to get a crit hit.”_

_Tommy backed up. “M’kay.”_

_This time, Tommy hit Dream’s shield first. Dream lowered the shield on instinct, and Tommy was able to get a hit on him. It wasn't critical, though._

_Dream nodded. “Like that. You hit me too late, that’s why you didn’t get the crit.”_

_They spent the rest of the day practicing like that, with George occasionally swapping for either Tommy or Dream._

* * *

A hard hit to his side stunned Tommy out of the memory. He stumbled to the side and doubled over, the air knocked out of his lungs. Blade started laughing. “Not so great now, huh?”

Tommy shot Blade a glare that could kill. The pink-haired boy was unfazed. “Man, you totally lost focus! Rule number one of fighting: never take your eyes off the opponent!”

Tommy straightened out. “I know the rules, bitch. Wasn’t my fault I decided to remember shit.”

Blade rolled his eyes. “Excuses! C’mon then, let's go another round!”

* * *

Tommy hated Blade’s guts.

The egotistical fuck bragged each time he won, which he almost always did. Tommy managed to win once, but even then Blade brushed it off as being lucky. If he had to train with Blade for another two months, he felt like he was going to lose his mind.

Jerry seemed slightly disappointed, which just rubbed salt into the wound. Tommy was sore, and peppered with bruises. This was nothing new, really. He had a knack of pissing off people, and then getting his ass handed to his as a result.

Once they got to Jerry’s house, the villager shoved a list of items and a bag of emeralds into Tommy’s hands.

Tommy looked down, then back up at Jerry. “The fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Jerry already had sat on one of the couches, pulling a book out. “You gotta go get groceries.”

“Huh? But what if I get lost?” Tommy said, bewildered.

Jerry looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow. “You ask for directions.”

Tommy tried to think of another excuse, aside from feeling like he just got run over by a tractor, but couldn’t think of one. “Fine.” He turned and stormed out the door.

He checked the list of items. Most of them were fairly easy, like vegetables and bread. Two of them caught his eye, though.

_Potatoes_

_Bread_

_Carrots_

_Apples_

_Beetroot_

_Sharpness III Book_

_Diamond Sword_

_Watermelon_

_Pumpkin Seeds_

Why did Jerry need a Sharpness book and a sword? Tommy decided to think about that later, focusing on the challenge at hand: finding the shopping center.

After walking down the street for a while, occasionally getting a sad look from passing villagers, he managed to stumble into what seemed to be the town square.

Multiple stalls lined the streets, each selling different items. After looking at the list, then around, Tommy was able to find the majority of items easily. 

_Potatoes_

~~_Bread_ ~~

~~_Carrots_ ~~

~~_Apples_ ~~

~~_Beetroot_ ~~

_Sharpness III Book_

_Diamond Sword_

~~_Watermelon_ ~~

~~_Pumpkin Seeds_ ~~

Now, where would he find potatoes? He wanted to go after the more odd items last.

Walking down the stalls, he couldn’t help but notice how happy everyone looked. Didn’t they get those pangs of sadness, remembering they could never age again? Didn’t they look around and think _gee, this is great, but I wish I was actually living, k’now? I prefer to live without the sun piercing into my eyeballs._

Tommy thought he would never truly understand all the happy people, knowing they were resigned to live in a fake world.

He finally caught sight of the potato stall. There were two of them, actually. Tommy decided to go to the first one, with no particular reason aside from it being closer.

The kid running the stall looked around fifteen. He had dark blue hair, with a hoodie that had a picture of a squid on it. He immediately perked up when Tommy walked up to his stand. “Hello!”

"Hey," Tommy said, looking over the potatoes that he had to offer. He chose four of them.

Squid boy smiled. “That’ll be six emeralds.”

Tommy was digging the emeralds out of his bag when a familiar voice yelled, “I’ll sell them for five!”

In the other stall, Blade was waving his hand. “Hey Tommy! You should buy mine! They’re obviously better!”

Squid boy smiled a strained smile. “Nah, bud. You should buy mine.”

Blade was almost halfway out of the stall. “Come on, Tommy! I’m your best friend!”

Tommy frowned at Blade. “No. Tubbo is my best friend.”

He bought the Squid boy’s potatoes.

After asking the escatic boy where the deadly weapons and enchanting books may be, he was directed to just keep walking down the street.Tommy walked away, the two rivals beginning to argue loudly behind him.

The Squid boy didn’t lie, as Tommy found himself walking among stalls that had deadly weapons for sale. He found a diamond sword, being sold without any enchantments, for fourteen emeralds. The villager seemed slightly familiar. He reminded Tommy of one of Tubbo and Snapnap's villagers that Dream had killed.

After searching for a bit longer, Tommy found and bought a Sharpness III book for twenty-one emeralds. Quite pricey, but the emeralds weren't Tommy’s, so he bought the book.

It was about time for dinner when Tommy arrived back at Jerry’s house. Jerry had not moved at all, still reading his book in the arm-chair.

Tommy placed the bag of groceries, along with the two pricey items, on the table. “Hey, Big J. I got your stuff.”

Jerry let out a laugh, confusing Tommy. “What? Was it something I said?”

“Why did you call me Big J?”

“What, would you rather me call you J Money- wait no, you can’t be J Money.”

Jerry shook his head with a few chuckles as he walked over to the table. “Why can’t I be J Money?”

“Because Jshlatt is J Money, and you are not Shlatt.”

Jerry rummaged through the bag for a moment. “Alright then. You can go… read books, while I get dinner ready.”

The conversation over, Tommy walked upstairs to his bedroom. There was a bookshelf that he noticed last night. He may as well look through some of the books.

Rummaging around the shelf, he found they all had a name stamped on the cover. He chose one at random, **_Dan the Diamond Minecart_ ** _._

_Day 3_

_Jerry gave me this book to write in. What am I supposed to write about?_

_I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Dan, but everyone calls me DanTDM. I died… hm. I think an experiment went wrong. Doctor Treyaurus messed up, maybe. Sorry, I can’t really remember._

_But I can get back! I just have to beat the dragon, which should be easy. I’ve done it multiple times before, what’s different this time? Aside from not being able to respawn, haha._

_Uh… I guess Blade is cool? He seems to have a slightly big ego, but he seems nice enough. Hopefully he can teach me to be better at PVP. Doctor Trey was never good enough to teach me._

_That’s… about it. Oh, wait! Yeah, I know!_

_I tried using a communicator to get back in contact with Dr. Trey, right? But it totally bugged out! I thought I was being really smart, but the thing just blue screened as soon as I touched it. How weird, right?_

_Alright, I should probably get to bed. Goodnight!_

_\- Dan_

Tommy flipped through a few more pages. They all had the same theme of Dan doing various tasks. He found the last entry, and decided to read it.

_Day 7, Month 3_

_Today is my last day here._

_Jerry told me I should write a goodbye, in case I die._

_That seems quite depressing. Why would I need to write a goodbye note? I’ve been prepping for over three months, I’m totally prepared!_

_But… if I do end up dead, I suppose I should say that I’m really glad Jerry’s as kind as he is._

_Blade, once you got to know him, is really funny and can be understanding._

_The lady that sold iron armor, she’s like my second mother. The guy that sells apples is like my brother._

_I sure won’t forget you guys when I’m back home!_

_Wow, I bet Doctor Trey will be so glad to see me._

_Goodbye!_

_\- Dan_

Tommy flipped the page. Written in the middle, in Jerry’s handwriting, was a simple message.

_DanTDM was slain by Zombie._

* * *

  
  


The dinner was quite nice, consisting of a soup using the various items Tommy bought, and the bread. 

After sitting in near silence, Tommy decided to say something. “Hey, Jerry?”

Jerry looked up from his communicator. “What is it?”

Tommy traced his spoon through the bowl. “Is… Are the journals upstairs, k’now, written by real players?”

Jerry set the communicator down, looking at Tommy with forlorn eyes. “Yes. Each one was written by a player that lived in my house.”

Tommy stared down at the soup, at a loss of appetite. “So… You want me to start one?”

Jerry stood, taking his dishes with him. “It would be nice, yeah. Gives me something of sentimental value, if you know what I mean.”

Oh, Tommy knew what he meant. He knew quite a lot about objects with sentimental value, two disks being in particular. “When do you want me to start?”

Jerry started washing off his dishes. “Well, the bottom row of the bookshelf are all empty. You can start whenever you want.”

Tommy walked up the stairs. He got changed. Before going to bed, he took one of the blank books. 

He thought for a moment, before beginning writing.

_Day Two._

_I’m Tommy. I died trying to get independence for my nation. Wow, that sounds so noble and badass. I’m so cool._

_Jerry wants me to write stuff down, so when I die again, he has something to remember me by. That is stupid. I refuse to die again._

_Y’know, Jerry and I actually knew each other when we were alive. We lived together in this big place called Hypixel. God, it was so much fun. I had a whole thing where I scammed people. I even talked to the mighty Technoblade, before we became best friends. We talk everyday. That's a lie. Techno hadn't talked to me for a long time. Does he know I'm dead? ~~I don't even know if we were really friends.~~ _

_Speaking of him… I really don’t like Blade. He’s a bitch boy._

_I miss Tubbo. Tubbo is my best friend. Me and them would always do shit together. I hope they know I really don’t hate him._

_Uh, I suppose I should go to bed now._

_Tommy_

* * *

_This time, Tommy had a view of the inside of Eret’s ‘Gay Castle’, as Eret dubbed it._

_The man himself was sitting on a gold throne, holding a crown in his hands. He didn’t look happy at all._

_Somebody walked up to his throne, easily identified by the fox ears and tail._

_Fundy came to a stop before the king. “Are you proud of yourself?”_

_Eret silently fiddled with the gold crown in his hands._

_Fundy huffed. “You know you’re partly at blame for this.”_

_Eret shook his head. He looked like he was about to burst into tears. “They- No, Fundy. I-I’m not proud of myself.”_


	8. Chapter Seven

Tommy woke up, again with a headache. He fumbled his way down the stairs, still half asleep. 

He found a note on the table, written in Jerry’s neat, compact handwriting.

_Hey Tommy_

_I had something I had to do, so here’s a pill because I bet you have a headache._

_Feel free to go through the cupboards and eat whatever._

_Once you’re done, Blade is waiting for you where you fought him last._

_Jerry_

His body was so sore, he really didn’t want to fight against Blade again. But alas, once he had something to eat, he trudged over to the arena.

Blade was sitting on one of the side benches, looking at his communicator. He looked up once Tommy approached. Blade hopped up with a smile, shoving the communicator into his pocket.

Tommy was already dreading this.

* * *

About halfway through, Jerry showed up, and proceeded to judge Tommy silently each time the teenager fell, which was a lot. He did get a few good hits on the pink-haired boy, but still Blade made excuses about being distracted.

It was finally the last round. Tommy just had to get beat one more time, and then he could go lay in bed and feel bad for himself. Blade hopped from one foot to the other, the shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. Man, he was tired of the young scumbag.

This time, Tommy decided to play offensive. He charged the shorter boy, catching him by surprise. Blade was parrying each of his hits, but the grin became more strained.

Tommy whaled on the kid, fed up with his stupid shit. He just wanted to go back home.

_Twack._

He hit Blade on his thigh, making the kid stumble back. Tommy straightened, breathing heavily. 

Blade stood up straight as well. He flashed Tommy another goddamn smile. “You’re learning.”

So that was that, huh? No congrats, no good job? Tommy, once again, was royally pissed.

Jerry seemed to notice his anger walking back to the house, because once they got inside, Jerry motioned Tommy to sit on the couch. Jerry came back with an ice pack, to which Tommy pressed against his side.

Jerry looked at him with forlorn eyes. “Do you know why I have you train with Blade?”

Tommy shook his head, too tired to think of a proper response. 

“It’s to teach you to not be so egotistical. You have to step back, and realize you aren’t the best at everything. Blade never really gives compliments, and he's taught a lot of the players that they really aren’t the kings or queens of everything.”

Tommy snorted. “That’s bullshit. What are you, my English teacher?”

Jerry just sighed, getting up. He came back with a sheathed sword. He motioned to Tommy to follow him.

He led Tommy away from the main area, to a more secluded part.Tommy realized he was near the stables.

Spirit looked no worse for wear. In fact, he seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of the stall. Jerry took a saddle, while Tommy stood by awkwardly and watched.

Once Spirit was ready, Jerry handed him the sword. “You’re obviously angry, so I want you to go relieve that anger.” Jerry started walking out of the stall. “Come back once you’re calmed down.”

* * *

He rode Spirit far out, as far away from the village he was willing to go. He took the two fences he stole from a chest in the stable, _surly they don’t need these_ , and then attacked the pole.

It felt nice, to swing and hit and not be brushed off. He didn’t care he was dulling the blade of the sword, he was too pent up.

He fell into a rhythm, remembering when Tubbo used to train him.

* * *

_“Uh, not like that.” Tubbo called out._

_Tommy stopped, glaring at the older boy. “Well then, bitch, tell me how!”_

_Tubbo looked like they were about to snap back, before he took out his own axe. “Well, you can swap between the axe and sword. Hold out a shield.”_

_Tommy muttered something about how Tubbo couldn’t boss him around, before putting up a shield like Tubbo asked._

_“So, you hit the shield with the axe then you swap to the sword.” Tubbo demonstrated, almost flawlessly._

_“Yeah, Dream already told me about the axe and shield.” Tommy said._

_Tubbo laughed. “Then why don’t you go train with him?’_

_Tommy stared at Tubbo. “We’re at war, Tubbo.”_

_“Oh, yeah.”_

* * *

The sword broke, shattering Tommy out of his thoughts. He stood there, with a broken sword, two beat up fences, a horse, and what he would consider longing.

As he rode back to the town, with the sun setting on the horizon, he realized something.

He was not like the villagers, who were happy to live like this. He needed to get out, he needed to see Tubbo again.

Not only Tubbo, but Wilbur, and Fundy, and wasn’t Jack planning on joining L’manburg? He had to get out, or at least try, because he would never be satisfied until he saw his family smiling again.

* * *

Tommy put Spirit back in his stall. He was right earlier; the horse was emitting a faint glow. With a small start, he realized he was, too. He wondered if that was an effect of being dead.

Jerry let him in the house. Tommy showed the older the broken sword with a small apology. Jerry brushed it off, saying the sword was bound to break now or later.

They had a quick dinner. After, Tommy dragged his sore body up the stairs. He took a shower, not looking in the mirror once, before settling back on his bed. He grabbed one of the books at random. This one was titled **_PopularMMOs_ ** _._ What an odd name, but TommyInnit wasn’t one to judge.

_5_

_I’m Pat, and I’m not too great at writing. But I suppose if I’m going to die, there should be something to remember me by._

_It was a challenge games. We usually give ourselves three respawns for when we fight, but this time, the mobs escaped before we could stop the war._

_She managed to get out, I’m pretty sure. I stayed back, though. I died once, twice, and then again. Each time it hurt, but the last one hurt the most._

_I’m going to go back home. Jen’s waiting for me._

_Pat_

Tommy wasn’t too sure what a challenge game was. He turned to the second to last page.

_67_

_I’m going tomorrow._

_Tell Jerry thanks._

_Jen, Cloud. I’m coming home._

_Pat_

The last page was just as sad as before.

_PopularMMOs was blown up by Creeper._

Tommy slid the book back on the shelf, picking up his own book once the other was returned.

_Day 2_

_This wasn’t the first war I fought._

_Dream took my disks, and I managed to beat him. Pretty cool, right. Whoever reads this probably doesn’t even know who Dream is._

_I wonder how Wilbur is doing. Wilbur is the president of our nation. He’s like my older brother. I hope he isn’t too upset with me fucking up._

_Tommy_

Tommy put the book on the nightstand, turning away from it. He just wants to go back home.

* * *

_Tubbo was building something. It looked like docks to Tommy. He remembered Tubbo planned to build docks, and Tommy supposed Tubbo still went through with it._

_Another figure walked up behind Tubbo. With a white head band, and casual clothes, the person was identified as Sapnap._

_“Go away. Don’t wanna talk.” Tommy almost cried at how numb Tubbo sounded._

_Sapnap shuffled his feet. “Y’know, I’m sorry-”_

_“Sorry doesn’t bring him back.” Tubbo cut him off._

_Sapnap was quiet, before trying to talk again. “Look, man, I just wanna tal-”_

_“I SAID GO AWAY!”_

_Sapnap was slain by Tubbo__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha turbo sad go brr


	9. Chapter Eight

Tommy woke up with a start, gasping for breath, head pounding. Something about Tubbo lashing out like that was so… unnatural. Tommy didn’t like it. 

He liked it when Tubbo would gush about bees, or when Fundy would farm for disks with him, or when him and Wilbur would sit together, and Wilbur would point out constellations in the night sky. 

He liked it when Phil would wordlessly let him vent out all his issues and secrets, some Phil only knew, or when Techno would send a proud smile his way, or when Niki would teach him how to make bread (which was only one time, since Tommy almost burned the house down). 

He liked it when he and Tubbo and Purpled would run down the path, laughing, or when the main problem was Ponk being a bitch, or when he spent his time complimenting Eret on his voice.

He liked it when his only goal was to be annoying, to scam people, to make people laugh.

As he rolled out of bed to go use the bathroom and get changed, he decided he would push the wars to the side, and properly catch up with everyone.

After he kicks Dream’s ass, of course.

* * *

Blade twirled his sword, accidentally hitting himself in the face. “Y-Yeah, you did real bad today and stuff! Per usual,” he recovered with a smirk.

Tommy was sitting on the ground, out of breath. He thought he saw Blade wince in sympathy, but Tommy was sure that wasn’t the case. The bitch wouldn’t show pity if it depended on his life.

“I’m just sore, fuckwad.”

“Sore? Pft, okay.” Tommy hated the way Blade over-exaggerated the ‘okay’. Maybe Tommy could steal that to annoy Wilbur, once he returned, of course.

Tommy stood up, successfully not crying out in pain. He twirled his sword, just like Blade did, except without the whole “hitting himself in the face” part, because Tommy was not an idiot. At least Tommy was able to retain some dignity. He ignored Blade’s eyes, wide opened in awe, as Tommy went to be silently angry at Jerry. 

Tommy tossed his wooden sword into the pile as Jerry stood up.

Him and Jerry traveled back in silence. Jerry must have picked up on the fact Tommy felt like shit. Once they got back inside, Tommy sat at the table, dropping his head into his hands. He was content to sit there, probably until dinner, so he could go to bed and just get beat up again tomorrow.

But Jerry wanted help planting pumpkins, so Tommy forced himself out of the seat and followed Jerry to his backyard.

It was kind of nice, if Tommy was being honest. The cobblestone walls were covered in grapevines. There were neat rows of all kinds of vegetables and fruits. Tubbo would like it.

Jerry caught Tommy looking. “Do you like my garden?”

“Looks like shit.”

Jerry merely chuckled, guiding Tommy towards the back. There was freshly farmed soil, ready for plants. Jerry sat down, patting the ground for Tommy to do the same.

It was very relaxing. The rhythm of digging up a bit of soil, dropping a seed in, and covering the hole back up reminded Tommy of his own humble carrot farm. He hoped it was still being looked after, but knowing how some of the people back home were reacting, he couldn’t really count on it. 

At some point, Spins had buzzed his way into the garden. He trundled around all the flowers, before settling back down on Tommy’s head.

Tommy sat back with a small sigh. He noticed the sun already moving towards the horizon. Surely it didn’t take them that long, did it?

“Hey, Jerry, why does the sun set so fast?”

Jerry glanced up from his side of the row, squinting at the sky. “Time’s faster here. Clocks don’t work. We guess days last about 18 hours here. That’s a reason you have a bad headache every morning. Your body is adjusting to a different time schedule.”

Tommy glanced towards the sun inquisitively, and almost immediately had to look away. _Too bright._

So that was why the days and nights seemed shorter? It didn’t make too much sense in his mind, but Tommy supposed it was true. Why would he not?

They finished up once the sun was almost completely down, with the moon starting to rise over the tops of houses. He didn’t eat much, wanting to just go lay down.

He pulled a book from the shelf at random, reading the title as he gingerly sat on the bed. **_Sky Does Minecraft._ **

Tommy didn’t really know what “Minecraft” was, but disregarded it as he flipped the book open.

* * *

**Day 2**

**~~how am i supposed to do this? hold on let me go ask jerry~~ **

**Hello! My name is Sky. I died… I think it was in the prison? Yeah, it was definitely in the prison. The wars there are mock-ups, but we give ourselves like four respawns, just in case somebody went crazy. It’s happened before. One time, this guy punched through the wall, it was so funny, since the walls were made of stone. He was complaining about his broken hand for long- oh wait, I was talking about my death.**

**I think it was water? Or something about falling off a bride? Sorry, it goes all hazy whenever I think about it.**

**I like butter.**

**Maybe I’ll get out. Not too sure yet. Afterlife seems pretty cool.**

**Sky**

* * *

**Day 26 Month 2**

**I’ve made up my mind. I’m getting out of this shit hole.**

**The sun hurts my eyes, even with my glasses. There’s no trees, and there's no butter.**

**Jerry says I’m under prepared. I think he’s a pussy.**

**I’m leaving tonight.**

**Goodbye Jerry! I don’t hate you, I just know I’m ready to leave. It’s my time to go. You were a good ~~guardian? Parent?~~ Don’t know, just know you’re really good at what you do.**

**Sky.**

  
  


_SkyDoesMinecraft tried to swim in lava._

* * *

Tommy closed the book with a snap. He felt an indescribable sadness in his chest, as if he had just read a legend’s last words. He shook it off, grabbing his own book.

_Day Three._

_I just learned the days and nights here are shorter. Shits wild in the afterlife._

_You know, I was thinking about pets the other day. I want to get a pet cow, once I get back home._

_I’ve got three names picked out. Oh, maybe I get three cows, named Henry, Harold, and Harvy._

_I’ve also wanted to tame a horse. Horse Champ, like PogChamp but horse._

_I’m so shit at writing holy fuck._

_At least I'm not as bad as Tubbo LUL_

_Tommy_

* * *

Tommy put his book back on his nightstand, next to Sky’s. He didn’t bother changing. He kicked off his shoes and slid under the covers.

* * *

_“I just think sometimes.”_

_Two people were sitting on the top of Purpled’s UFO. The boy himself was swinging his feet slightly, watching three people have an argument below. Everybody was a lot more on edge, ever since he died._

_Ponk, the other sitting next to him, glanced at Purpled. “What do you mean?”_

_“I just- What if we didn’t remain neutral, Ponk?” He gestured down at the three people. “Would he, k’now, not…”_

_He trailed off into silence. Ponk stared ahead, at the remains of the dead man’s best friend’s house. “I think about that, too. Back when he was my neighbor, and we hated each other.”_

_Ponk sighed, wrapping his arms around himself. “I just wish I could tell him-”_

_What he was going to say was cut off as Tommy could abruptly only hear white static. The surroundings blurred together, until the noise left, and he was suddenly staring at_ himself.

_It was like seeing a recording of yourself, but on steroids. Dream Tommy’s hand dropped to his side, and he watched his own eyes gloss over, his chest stopped rising. Instead of poofing into dust and respawning, his body kept laying there, his dull eyes staring at nothing,_ _and all Tommy could feel was a sense of_ wrongness.

_Tubbo screamed, full of anger and grief. He shot up, making a move to run at Dream. Fundy barely managed to catch the shorter boy’s arms, pulling him back._

_“I HATE YOU!” Tubbo yelled, tears streaming down their face. “I’LL FUCKING KILL ALL OF YOU!”_

_Suddenly, as if the spell was broken, Tubbo collapsed in Fundy’s arms. His heaving sobs and the lapping of water against the wood were the only sounds._

_Then, Wilbur and everybody was gone. Dream was standing by himself, staring at a bloodstain on the ground._

_Tommy noticed the tiny puddle of water forming at Dream’s feet, and traced the source of the water up to his masked face. Behind that piece of thick plastic was a man._

_And he was crying._

* * *

Tommy woke up with a start, shooting up to a sitting position. His heart pounding, he floundered his way out the sheets, and was left standing in the middle of his room. 

He raised a hand to rub his eyes, but stopped.

His hand was glowing.

He pushed up his sleeve, and under all the bruises, his skin emitted a faint glow. He was like a glow stick.

It didn’t shock him as much as it should. He had gotten fairly used to odd things. Why should being a light source be any different?

He went and flung the curtains open. He pulled up the chair to the window, and sat staring at the stars.

It was so much more beautiful than it ever was back on Earth. The stars shone so much brighter, lighting up the black sky. Tommy wished that Wilbur could see it.

He fell asleep gazing at the sky, and for the first night here, he slept without any dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter seem bland? dont worry, i have things planned for the next one B)
> 
> not in a bad way either :) :) :)))))) :)
> 
> so i was gonna make tommy have a nightmare about dream but i have found out i am not capable of doing that :/
> 
> uh anyways have a good night/good day!


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really took one look at the potato war and thought "but what if they were both quirky fifteen year-olds who acted like twelve year-olds"

Tommy woke to the sun blazing into his eyes. He grumbled, closing the curtains. He remembered he fell asleep in a chair. Maybe that was why he felt so stiff as he stood to stretch. 

As he stumbled to go change into his clothes, he realized his clothes were quite old, and hadn’t been washed. His eyes landed on the wardrobe in the corner, previously ignored. There might be something in there he could wear. 

There was an array inside the closet, ranging from short, pink shirts to thick, fluffy sweaters. Wow, Wilbur would love this.

Tommy was about to choose something simple, like a random shirt and pair of pants. He never really cared for style, as long as the clothes worked, he was fine. But as he was going for a blue shirt, something else caught his eye. A white sweatshirt. It seemed average at first, but Tommy remembered something Wilbur told him long, long ago.

_“You stupid gremlin, where is your sense of style? Let me tell you, if I had to walk in public with you looking like that, I just might throw up from embarrassment. Hell, you could wear a white sweatshirt with black pants, and something as simple as that would look better than this!”_

So that was why Tommy wore a white sweatshirt with black pants.

Jerry was reading a paper in the living room, only saying a mere “See you” when Tommy left. He seemed occupied, so Tommy left in silence. 

Blade, like every other day, was furiously typing on his communicator. Once Tommy arrived, the pink haired boy shoved it into his pocket. He stood with a grin on his face. It was so dumb, Tommy really wanted to turn back around. But he remembered all the journals, all the people who also died. If they could suffer for a month or two, surely he could too.

Still, it didn’t make the stinging pain fade any less. Tommy was sure the only times he won was because Blade wanted him to feel a bit better. Which was bullshit, since in the end Tommy knew Blade was a lot better.

The sun beat down, making sweat run down his face. It was the wrong day to wear a sweatshirt, apparently. He called a small time-out. Blade went to go drink water, while Tommy pulled the sweatshirt off. He tossed it on the dusty ground, but immediately picked it back up, brushing it off. Wilbur would be really upset, if he had seen Tommy do that to ‘such a nice piece of clothing’.

He didn’t think it was that much of a problem, having his arms exposed for the first time being here, but Blade seemed to think so, as he choked on his water. After a few moments of Blade hacking up his lungs, the younger boy stared at Tommy. “Dude. Isn’t Jerry giving you healing pots?”

“What?” Tommy gave Blade a blank look.

Blade shook his head. “Jerry is supposed to be giving you potions of healing. Don’t tell me he forgot.”

Tommy, still clueless, shrugged. Blade held up a finger “Hold on a second.” He dashed into his house.

Tommy sat down on the bench with a small sigh. He turned the sweatshirt over in his hands. It was kind of stupid, how much a piece of clothing made him miss home. Something about it, he wasn’t sure what, made him feel nostalgic for a certain tall, curly haired man.

Blade rushed back outside, startling Tommy out of his thoughts. In the boy’s hand was a glass bottle filled with pink liquid. Blade slid to a halt, panting. “I-I’ll give you this, if you teach me how to twirl the sword.”

Tommy tilted his head. “Really? That’s easy. Sure I can, if you stop being such a bitch.”

Blade huffed, tossing Tommy the potion. It tasted like the ones Tubbo made, which made sense, since they followed the same recipe, but made Tommy homesick nonetheless. Blade sat down next to him, fiddling with his hands.

“You know why I’m such a jerk?” Tommy looked at the other boy. Blade stared down, hands coming to a stop.

“One of the first people I trained with became a really good friend. He stayed here for so long. I asked him why he didn’t leave, and he said he would miss me.” Blade let out a forced chuckle. “He eventually left, but only because I told him his family was waiting for him. They’re a lot more important than I am.”

He returned to fidgeting with his thumbs. “I guess it didn’t matter anyway, because he died, but ever since then I can’t bring myself to be nice. I have to be mean, so when they leave, they don’t feel regret.”

The boy wiped at his eyes. Tommy pretended not to notice, instead looking in the other direction. Blade reminded him a lot of Tubbo. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the pink boy who was once Technoblade just gave the same feeling as Tubbo did.

Tommy looked back. Blade still had his head hung, although he seemed to have stopped crying. “Well too bad for you, I’ve decided that I like you. And it doesn’t matter, because when I get out, I’ll keep in contact with you.”

Blade shook his head. Tommy gasped. “What, are you saying I’m a goner? You’re a real motherfcker, you know?”

He heard the other chuckle. The healing pot was working, repairing his bruised body, and making him feel more energized. He stood, tying the sweatshirt around his waist. He tossed one the swords at Blade. It skidded to a stop by his feet. Blade glanced up. Tommy twirled his sword with a grin. “Come on, then! A deal’s a deal, and I’ve never scammed anyone in my life!” He turned serious. “Ever. Anything you’ve heard about me scamming people is completely false.”

He got Blade there, as the younger boy doubled over with laughter. Blade stood up, still giggling.

Tommy learned that Blade was a fast learner, and once he picked up on a certain thing, he was able to perfect it quickly. The main problem Blade had before was that he wasn’t shifting his fingers as he twirled, which caused the sword to thwack him in the chin. Once Tommy corrected him, Blade was able to do it almost seamlessly, which put a happy smile on his face. He reminded Tommy so strongly of Tubbo, happy with his bees.

"Hey man, could you pull out your communicator? I wanna test something." The two had called off the rest of the practice, and were now walking back to Jerry's house.

"Sure, here you go." Blade tossed his communicator to Tommy. Tommy entered in an IP he knew by heart. _528640_.

_Sending Invite…_

_Invite Pending…_

_Failed to Connect. Please Try Again Later._

Tommy sighed. It was worth a try. He handed it back to Blade. "Who's IP was that?" The shorter boy asked.

"Tubbo. My best friend." Tommy said, trying not to let the sadness creep into his tone.

"I wanna try something now. Try entering your IP."

"Dude. I'm dead."

"So? Try it anyways."

Receiving the communicator again, Tommy entered his own IP. _528659_

_Sending Invite…_

_Invite Pending…_

_._

_._

_._

_Send Message?_

**_YES NO_ **

"Holy shit."

"What?" Blade craned his head over, attempting to see the screen. "Did it actually work?"

“Y-yeah, uh, it did.” Tommy felt speechless. What if they had his communicator? The idea of getting in contact with his friends was so tantalizing, but Tommy tried not to get his hopes up. But what if they did have it? He could speak to Tubbo again!

They had gotten to Jerry’s house. Blade stomped in, yelling at Jerry about being forgetful and stuff like that. Meanwhile, Tommy typed out what he hoped was a good message.

_[Blade_2] hello?_

_[Blade_2] its tommy_

_[Blade_2] im in the afterlife right now, im trying to get out. you guys dont need to worry, ill definitely get out because im strong and shit_

_[Blade_2] its like heaven except if you die once youre actually gone forever and also the sun is set on making you fucking blind_

_[Blade_2] please respond_

“Tommy, you wanna come into the market with me?” Blade, apparently done with his arguing, was standing next to the door with a softer smile then the one he usually wore.

“Sure, better than sitting around doing nothing.” Tommy tossed the communicator back. Blade fumbled, managing to catch it. His face lit up with happiness and self pride. 

The two walked outside, missing the knowingly sad look Jerry gave them.

And in another dimension, a small device buzzed with unread messages six feet under the ground.

* * *

  
  


The first thing they saw was a boy with blue hair running towards them. “Hey Blade! Also Tommy, hello!”

Blade smiled. “Hey, Squid. Me and Tommy are friends now.”

Squid grinned back. “That’s cool! It sucked when you were walking around with this big frown on your face.”

Tommy almost frowned, but managed to catch himself. “Fuck off, you look like your twelve.” Since he was older, Tommy could use all the child jokes he’s heard, which were a lot.

“Hey! I’m fifteen! A-anyways, you wanna see our farms, Blade?” Squid quickly changed the subject, much like Tommy would.

“Sure, as long as I get to show mine once you're done,” Blade responded. “Which shouldn’t take long, since yours is _tiny._ ”

“No, it is not! It is so much bigger!” The two boys dragged Tommy behind him, bickering the whole way. Wow, is this what Wilbur felt like when he was forced to tag along with Tubbo and Tommy? Tommy felt a bit of pity and regret.

The tour of the two boy’s farm was fairly uneventful. The only takeaway Tommy had was that they were huge. Both of them. Rows of potatoes stretching on for miles, as far as the eye could see. Whoever had to take care of them must be getting paid really well.

The sun was almost setting when the three were walking back. Tommy caught sight of Squid’s blue hair again, and voiced a question he had been holding for a while. “Is your hair dyed?”

Squid glanced back from the conversation he was having with Blade. “It is! Blade’s isn’t, though. Why, do you wanna dye your hair?” The two were now staring at him.

“Uh, I was thinking about it.” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. The two shared a look, before grabbing his arms and dragging him off to a different set of houses.

The whole way, they asked questions non-stop. What color he wanted to dye it, how much he wanted, if he wanted multiple questions, stuff like that. That’s how they already knew he wanted to dye it red, but only the top. The sides would be left alone.

They pulled him into a salon. Squid pushed him into a chair. A woman came out from a backroom. She looked like Squid, except her long hair was a natural brown instead of dark blue. 

“Hello, what will it be for today?” She asked with a gentle smile on her face.

Blade excitedly listed off what Tommy wanted while Squid rummaged through the cabinets, showing different shades of red to Tommy. He chose a bright red one. Tubbo would like that color, he thought.

“I just want to tell you, this dye will last a very long time. Do you still want it?” Squid’s mother asked, gloved hands covered in dye hovering above his head.

“Hell yeah. Future me can kiss my ass.”

* * *

  
  


He really liked it. He said it multiple times, but every time he caught sight of a mirror, he stared at his now red hair.

Squid’s mom let him stay for dinner, although it felt a bit more like polite forcing.

Jerry wasn’t around when he creaked the door open. He probably already went to sleep.

As he was walking to go up to his bedroom, a small glisten caught his eye from the table. Curious, he walked over to investigate.

It was a bunch of enchantment books, all sorted into neat piles. He didn’t want to mess up whatever Jerry was working on, so he left them be.

He felt around his bookshelf, pulling out one at random. Stamped neatly on the cover was the name **_StacyPlays._ **

_Day Three_

_Hi! My name is Stacy! I really like animals, and I have a bunch waiting for me at home._

_I can’t remember how I… uh, fill in the blank. I’m kind of thinking it was zombies? Oh, maybe it was… I’m very sorry, I really can’t remember._

_I hope that my pets are being taken care of! Surely Liz must have noticed something. She’s probably feeding them right now!_

_Well, I don’t have much else to write. I hope whoever reads this has a good day!_

_\- Stacy <3 _

  
  


Oh no, Tommy could already see where this was going. Stacy seemed too sweet, there was no way she could have made it out. She seemed a lot like Niki, actually. That revelation just made Tommy more sad.

His suspicions were right as he skipped though months of writing, all to the last page. He couldn’t bring himself to read her parting words, instead looking at the last thing written. 

_StacyPlays burned to death whilst trying to escape Zombie Pigman._

He closed the book. He hoped to any god out there that her animals were being taken care of. An image of a dark, empty house, riddled with name tags and bones, flashed through his head before he shut it out.

He didn’t feel much like writing, so he kept it short and simple.

_Day Four_

_I dyed my hair today and got emotional attachment to a sweater. Also Blade and I are friends._

_Tommy_

* * *

  
  


_Two people were lounging on a red castle wall. Oh no, Tommy could already see where this was going._

_One of the men, a blonde with a bucket hat, goofily punched the other in the arm. “What, are you worried?”_

_The other man, a person with a crown nestled in his pink hair, swatted the attacker. “Nah.”_

_Phil laughed. “Really now? Because when you heard that he got into a war with Dream, you looked pretty scare-”_

_“No, I did not. He’s old enough, I’m sure he can handle himself.” Techno, the king, gazed out, not meeting Phil’s eyes._

_Phil broke into laughter again, earning a glare. “Well, who's to say_ you _weren't worried? It looked like you had just-”_

_“No! I’m not worried!” Phil loudly said, still giggling slightly._

_Somebody’s feet thudded against the wood. A messenger. Technoblade stood, dusting himself off. Phil staggered to his feet behind the noble king, still light headed from laughter._

_“Sir! I have news about the L’manberg war!”_

_“Well?” The king asked._

_"The nation has earned independence! They now live separate from the Dream SMP."  
_

_Techno tried to hide his smile. "Is there anything else? Surely we could meet with them soon..."_

_The messenger trembled. Their face must have given it away. Techno’s face fell, Phil’s laughter long forgotten._

_“I tell you with the utmost sorrow.”_

_Phil started shaking his head, slowly backing up. Techno stood frozen._

_"In order for his nation to have their independence..."_

_The messenger looked scared for their life, but relayed the message anyways._

_“TommyInnit has permanently died.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know tommy said he probably wouldn't dye his hair but ive always wanted to so this is my little bit of self-projecting
> 
> updates will be slower, since ive got 2 stories im working on now, and i work on whichever one i have motivation for (also this really cool thing called 'school')
> 
> anyways, stay safe and have a good day/night! <3


	11. Tubbo’s Interlude (Chapter Ten)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> philza minecraft

He did the same thing every day.

Sometimes, people would try to talk to him. They stopped after a week.

He wakes up, numbly works on something, then goes to sleep.

Day after day.

He heard their whispers. They were worried. He hadn’t been the same.

They had recovered. Sure, it was quieter, so much quieter, it's almost deafening, but they didn’t notice. They continued like nothing happened.

At least he still had Tommy’s disks. Dream gave them independence for free. He didn’t trust it one bit, but who was he to argue? Tommy had died for this, he had wanted this.

He would gladly let their nation fall apart, if it meant Tommy could come back.

He visits the gravestone every day. He sits, and talks, because sometimes he feels like Tommy is still watching. If he were to tell anyone, they would chalk it up to him ‘still grieving’. But he swore, he could occasionally feel Tommy’s eyes on him.

He planted red poppies around the grave. They spread like wildfire, like the fire burning his house to the ground. He thought Tommy would like them. 

He didn’t know when he stopped crying. The first week, he was almost constantly at tears. But now, he only felt numb.

He rarely wandered outside of the border, into enemy territory. Even if they weren't at war anymore, he could never claim he felt safe. He still felt anger, but it was hopeless anger. He could kill them over and over again, but they would always respawn. Unlike Tommy.

There was a war over a fox. He missed it completely, wrapped up in his own business. He didn’t hear about it until it was long over. He wished, just a little bit, that he could have joined. Maybe he could have- no.

Tommy wouldn’t want him thinking like that.

There was a small ember of hope. Maybe, Tommy was still alive, somewhere. But the message, the message that sent when he died, _TommyInnit left the game_ , stomped the ember out.

He was sitting by his grave one day, and he could have sworn he felt vibrations under the ground. But he brushed it off, because it was probably just something walking by.

He would dream vividly, of all the time they spent together. They were nice, while they lasted. But when he woke up, and when he remembered everything again, the warmth would leave, just like how Tommy left.

He built, because Tommy was never good at building. He wanted to do something, and so he built docks, just like the two of them had planned.

He made a space station, and a bunker, and he was working on a roller coaster, but he never felt satisfied. What would Tommy want?

Tommy would probably like it if he moved on. But he couldn't. Not until he felt satisfied, which would never happen.

He had to go get wood, so he went to the forest, down the path Tommy had made oh so long ago. He was chopping when he heard something behind him.

It was one of them. They were trying to say something, probably asking him if he was alright, or if he would forgive them.

He pushed past them, walking away on his own accord. He left the person standing alone, because he was alone.

He made a jukebox, and played the disks Tommy fought so hard for. He sat next to the grave, and played the music only he could hear. The dull songs on repeat, playing over and over in his head. Nobody would bother him, it was only him and his friend.

He blamed lots of people. He blamed Wilbur for letting Tommy duel. He blamed Sapnap and Purpled for starting the whole revolution. He blamed Eret for being selfish. He blamed Punz for being so nice, when in reality he was just as heartless as the rest of the "Dream Team". He blamed George because he could have talked Dream out of the war, but instead George just followed along, like he always did. He blamed Dream for firing the arrow into Tommy’s chest. 

He blamed, and blamed, but he knew who was truly at fault.

It was him.

He should have done more, he should have noticed Eret, he should have escaped, he should have stopped the duel, he should have gathered more materials, he should have fought harder, he should have made sure they had armor and weapons, he should have, _he should have,_ **_he should have_ _-_**

He talked to Tommy in his head. He had whole conversations with him, ranging from the tasks he was doing to multiple experiences they had in the past.

_“Remember when we kicked Dream’s ass?”_

_Yeah, I remember._

_“Yeah, that was so cool.”_

_It was, wasn't it? I wish we were still back there, fighting over a silly thing._

_“What, you got ghosts in de ed? You don’t need to feel sad, I’m right here!”_

_…_

~~_I miss you._ ~~

He should move on, they said. He should grieve, but he shouldn’t continue like this, they said. It’s unhealthy, they said. Somebody should help him, they said.

Oh, they tried to help him. But why break something when it’s already broken?

Almost everyone, even those he barely knew, tried talking to him. He lashed out, because he was fine, wasn’t he?

It was normal to grieve over somebody’s death, wasn’t it?

Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

Eret tried talking to him. For a brief moment, Tubbo remembered happily farming with him, laughing, but then he remembered the whole reason Tommy was dead was because of him. He killed Eret, and Eret let it happen.

He tried to ignore the tears leaking out of his eyes, streaming down his cheeks.

Jack and Niki, they didn’t understand, at first. They had just traveled from places so far away, and they hadn’t heard about Tommy’s death.

They were so happy, talking and joking, but they must have seen Wilbur with his dark eyebags and weary eyes, or maybe they saw his own dull eyes, face emptied of emotion.

He wasn’t there when they were told, but judging by their sagged shoulders, their eyes puffy and red, they didn’t take it well.

He would re-read the note Tommy had left, over and over again. Everyone else had their own read, but he kept it. He read it every night, because it felt like the last piece that he had left of Tommy.

The words were burned into his memory, but still he read it, if only to see Tommy’s messy handwriting. 

He was sitting at the table one night, in the main house, because he needed some food, and didn’t feel like getting his own. He didn’t dare touch Tommy’s carrot farm, because it was Tommy’s, and one day Tommy would be back, and he could farm the carrots again. He told himself that, but really it was because it was too close to Tommy’s house, and Tommy’s house had too many memories packed into such a small space.

He heard Wilbur talking to someone on his communicator. Apparently, Technoblade and Philza had caught wind of the death. They were on their way over now, to ‘peacefully talk to Dream’.

That was such bullshit.

There was going to be another war. He smelled it in the air.

He would not be participating. He has had enough fighting to last him forever.

He trudged out of the house, past people who hushed their talking, and sent worried glances his way. Why couldn’t they see he couldn't move on? Why did they pity him? They didn’t do anything, they sat by and watched while Tommy died.

He had sat aside, though. He hated himself. He could have yelled something, could have pushed Tommy out of the way, could have thrown a splash potion of damaging at Dream, could have talked Eret out of betrayal, could have done more, could have not been useless for once, could have, _could have_ , _**should have-**_

He blamed himself, despite Dream firing the arrow.

Did Tommy hate him? Did Tommy really mean it when he wanted him to leave Tommy alone? He was too clingy. Maybe if Tubbo gave Tommy more space, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. He should have respected his words, but he brushed it off as a joke.

It was all one big joke to Dream, wasn’t it?

Dream sat there, acting all high and mighty, _I want to see white flags! White flags, outside your base, at dawn, or you are **dead!**_ , but when it comes to murdering somebody, Dream acts… sad?

Why would Dream be sad? He was the one to laugh, to cause terror, to shoot the arrow, to be a cold-blooded murderer. He was probably in his base, sleeping soundly without nightmares, because he didn’t have nightmares. He caused the nightmares.

As Tubbo laid down next to his best friend, in the red poppies, with the scratchy sound of Cat playing, he thought he heard Tommy yelling at him, telling him he was still alive, but he knew it was his imagination. Tommy was dead. It was a true fact, as true as the body lying peacefully under the ground.

What did Tubbo have left?

First his bees, then his house, now his best friend.

Dream just didn’t know when to stop, did he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> philza minecraft


	12. Chapter Eleven

Tommy had forgotten to close the curtains last night. Of course, the sun was dead set on making him blind before he even got a chance to return home.

He stumbled out of his room to the bathroom, rubbing his eyes to clear the black dots from his vision. The shower was nice, he supposed.

Back in his room, he pulled on a simple red shirt and jeans. After a moment, he grabbed the white sweater, tying it around his waist. It was weird, but Tommy didn’t want to let it out of his sight.

Jerry, like almost every morning, was gone from the house. Tommy, a bit more familiar with the house, pulled out a box of cereal. As he sat eating his food, he thought about the dream he had last night.

Techno and Phil, huh? Knowing them, there was probably another war on the way. Tommy sighed. He hoped against all odds that Phil would be able to talk Techno out of fighting. Maybe Dream could pull some charisma out from his back pocket. The last thing Tommy would want is for another war.

He was quite different from when he was fighting, he thought. Back then, Tommy had thirsted for chaos, for blood and fighting. Whenever he was bored, he would go stir up anger in others, baiting them into fighting. Maybe it was because he had died, but now Tommy didn’t want to fight in a war again.

The sun had risen to light up the entire town, bathing it in an artificial glow. Tommy made his way over to the training arena. Blade was already there, idly drawing in the dirt with the tip of a wooden sword. The younger hopped up excitedly. Tommy couldn’t help but let a smile creep onto his face.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

* * *

Tommy was rapidly breathing, in and out. Blade was doing the same, although there was a prideful smile on his face.

It was a much better practice than the last times, Tommy being fully capable and at full health. Either Tommy had gotten better, or Blade had gotten worse, because they had matched blows the entire time. Tommy secretly hoped it was the former. Some sign that he was indeed getting better.

Blade handed him half of a healing potion, him already drunk half. The sweet taste made Tommy feel re-energized, his bruises beginning to fade. Blade darted into his house, something about his mom needing him for something.

Tommy sat idly, waiting for either Blade to come back or for Jerry to come pick him up. It wasn’t long before footsteps approached. He glanced up, meeting Jerry’s eyes with a smile.

Jerry needed help planting some more plants in his garden. Blade didn’t come, because his mom wanted his help with chores. The sun was already half-way through the sky when Tommy and Jerry had started working on planting carrots. Tommy tried to not let the homesickness show on his face, because that would probably make Jerry feel bad. He was reminded of a humble carrot farm that was constantly being stolen from. Tommy never showed it, but he always felt a little bit of pride whenever somebody took his carrots. It meant that person had needed food, and had turned to his carrots. It made it even better if they replanted them, although sometimes he had to do it himself.

He couldn’t help but wonder, again, how things were going on back home. It was something that he thought about while he laid in bed, waiting for sleep to take him. It was something he thought about whenever he was left alone. It was something he thought about every time something reminded him of home, like right now.

Like usual, he thought of Tubbo first. Was his best friend doing alright? He hoped, time and time again, that Tubbo had moved on, not let the grief swallow him whole. Maybe Tommy should have shown a bit more affection. It wasn’t entirely his fault he didn’t trust people’s touch, but that was no excuse for never showing Tubbo affection. Tubbo was a touchy person, but never seemed to touch Tommy. Maybe Tommy shouldn’t have given the brunette the cold-shoulder as much.

What about Wilbur? Tommy thought about him a lot. Tommy would think about the moments leading up to his death, with Wilbur leading the countdown that ended it all. Was Wilbur angry with Tommy, for messing up, for letting the arrow fly too far to the side? Did Wilbur let out a small sigh, like he normally would, filled with disappointment? Tommy never really thought he did enough, with Wilbur constantly watching over him. Wilbur was charismatic, handsome, and smart. Tommy didn’t even know why Wilbur kept Tommy around.

Fundy was probably the least affected. The two of them had never really spent time together, and when they did, Tommy would mercilessly tease him for the furry ears and tail. He most likely shed a tear or two, but moved on just as quickly. Still, Tommy remembered the dangerous nights, where him and Fundy had set up a way to get more music disks. Maybe the fox-hybrid still had a few of those disks, from oh so long ago.

Tommy didn’t like to think about Eret. Eret was a bastard traitor, he didn’t deserve to be thought about. 

_All the times Tommy spent with the older man, obsessing about his deep, deep voice. Eret liked to laugh, and Tommy liked to joke. Eret always laughed at his jokes, even if everyone else groaned and rolled their eyes. Eret was a soothing presence, even with glowing white eyes hidden behind glasses. Tommy didn’t understand why Eret had betrayed them. Wasn’t being with family better than being a lonely king?_

Tommy thought about the opposite side as well. Did Tommy imagine the cry of shock and grief George let out, once Tubbo said Tommy was on his last respawn? Did he imagine the way Sapnap’s eyes widened, his hands shaking so badly he dropped his sword? Did he imagine Punz desperately running as fast as he could to his house, in hope for finding a healing potion? ~~_He had found one, but by then it was too late._~~

Dream was one of the other people Tommy thought about a lot. The way Tommy saw it, Dream was a blood-thirsty maniac. The masked man would once hide out in Tommy’s walls. Nobody sane would do that, unless Dream did it for shits and giggles. If it was for laughs, then he was very successful in making Tommy and Tubbo laugh. _He is in de walls!_

The first war he fought in, he had managed to get Dream to his last respawn, with the help of Sapnap and Tubbo. Even then, Dream fought like a monster, until he cound't afford to die again. But at the same time, him and Dream had once been friends. Surely Dream wouldn’t have fired the arrow if he knew Tommy was one hit away from permanently dying.

The same person who called him Tomathy with a loud wheeze was the person who sparked the embers for an entire war. Tommy just couldn’t seem to figure out what changed Dream from a funny, happy older brother figure to a person who silently hunted, who cut down others without a second glance, who was scarily smart.

No matter how Tommy reasoned it, he didn’t know what was going through Dream’s head in those last moments.

Him and Jerry had planted enough carrots for a lifetime when the sun lowered below the horizon, now letting the moon inch across the sky. Jerry had made dinner, which was good as always, and then retreated to his room. Tommy didn’t know what Jerry spent all of his spare time doing, but it was none of his business. 

Tommy stepped up the stairs, skipping the one that squeaked. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom, looking over everything. There was a bed, and a dresser of clothes he could wear, and a bookshelf of people who were truly gone, but none of it was _his._

His small house back at home, sure it was crappy, but it was all his. He had earned it all, well, earned was a nice word for _st_ _ole_ , but it was mostly all his. The wall of furnaces, the small room for more chests, the first enderchest he had made in the disk war. The small room at the back, his own, little private room, where he kept his bed and jukebox. The strip mine that led to a ravine left in ruins, from back when Tommy had to hide his disk and Dream had torn the stone up in anger. Crafty, strong, 1,000 IQ Dream, outsmarted by the loud, mischievous child with an in-depth knowledge of scamming.

A warm breeze blew from the open window, playfully messing with the curtains. Tommy walked up to the window, gazing out at the city bathed in silver light. Even farther, the meadows, with mobs that had already died aimlessly wandering. Tommy wondered if there was a creeper, spider, skeleton, or zombie that he had killed out there. It was all in self-defense, if he hadn’t killed the mobs they would have killed him. Then again, he could always respawn. They wouldn't.

Tommy’s eyes were drawn to the sky full of stars. With an idea beginning to brew in his head, he silently made his way back down the stairs. He grabbed a spare sheet of paper and a pencil, before slipping outside.

The town was asleep, the only sign of life being a stray cat that darted as soon as Tommy stepped outside. He ignored it, instead going over to the side of the house. Like he hoped, there was a ladder leading up to the roof.

Pulling himself up the last rung, he sat on the roof. He caught his breath. It was even more beautiful than he thought.

The sky was magical, so many multi-colored stars shining against the black backdrop. The moon, despite it being brighter than normal, was just as gorgeous. Tommy, more desperately than ever, wished Wilbur could be here to see it. Wilbur loved to gaze at the stars. Tubbo would have loved it also, even if he didn’t know any constellations.

Tommy set the paper on a flat portion of the roof. If his friends couldn’t see it, he would just have to try capturing the beauty on the paper.

Tommy never liked to show people his art. Most of it was little things, like a tree or a flower. He felt embarrassed? It was weird. He just assumed people would never expect somebody as chaotic and loud like him to be able to sit down for hours, slowly bringing an object to life on a piece of paper.

Tommy wanted everyone to see this sky, filled to the brim with shining stars. He started sketching, letting himself loose in his work.

He wasn’t sure how long it took him, but he finally sat back. The moon had kept moving, which made it a bit harder, but that didn’t matter.

The paper had managed to capture a small fraction of the night’s beauty. Tommy smiled to himself. This would be one drawing he would show everyone.

It was late, but there was still time to sleep. Tommy made his way back inside, back into his room. He closed the window, and remembered to close the curtains as well. He placed the picture lovingly on top of the sweatshirt, neatly folded on a chair.

He looked at the wall of books. One caught his eye, for no reason other than it was purple in color. It slid out easily. The cover was stamped with the name _Aphmau._ Another girl, huh?

Tommy sat on his bed, turning the first page.

_Day 4!_

_Hiya! My name is Aphmau! This is just like my diary back at home!_

_Jerry probably wants me to say something about myself, right? Well, I’m Aphmau. Wait, I already wrote that. Nevermind!_

_I was on this vacation with all my friends, right? We had just suffered a bunch of… traumatic things, I would rather not talk about. We figured we deserved a break, and this_ _theme park that I’ve always wanted to go to had opened!_

_It was me, Aaron (my boyfriend! He’s so great. He’s a werewolf, definitely nothing else he has hidden), and a bunch of my other friends!_

_But, uh, I guess disaster is just prone to following us. It’s very complicated, but I’m kind of a host to a goddess? And Aaron was, uh, I don’t want to think about that. Basically, I had to… sacrifice myself._

_I’m not too great, if I’m honest. I’m clumsy, and sure I’m a werewolf, but I’m not strong enough to fight. Usually Aaron has to help, which is pathetic. We’ve encountered so many dangerous things, but I’m not sure I can defeat the ender dragon._

_Anyways, I have to try! I-_

_Aphmau <3_

There were spots on the paper, which made it was obvious the girl writing this had been crying. Tommy didn’t know the full story, as it was obviously very traumatic. It reminded him of his own wars, in fact.

The last page didn’t have much. The only message was Aphmau doubting herself, but deciding to try anyways. The death message looked as forlorn, as depressed as every other one.

_Aphmau was blown up by creeper_

His own notebook sat on the nightstand. Tommy pulled it open, staring at an empty page. He sighed, beginning to write.

_Day Five_

_I think about home a lot. I wonder about how different everything would have been if I had kept my mouth shut. If I hadn’t spoken up, we would have surrendered, but I’m sure I could have thought of something, some last trick up my sleeve._

_I’m really goddamn homesick._

_Tommy_

* * *

_This dream was different._

_Tommy could move._

_He was at the community house. It looked neglected._

_He walked out, down the path. There was so much ruin, so much destruction. Why hadn’t anyone started patching things up?_

_There were a few new things, like the socializing club. It looked like it was revamped. Almost right next to it was a giant Walmart. It was a bit odd, but Tommy didn’t know what had been happening._

_His house looked untouched. He tried going in, but a barrier stopped him. His carrot farm looked overgrown. Man, he thought he could rely on people to keep it in good condition._

_There was a new path, leading over the ledge. It cut through the mountain above Wilbur’s hanging ball-house. Tommy walked down it. Standing at the vantage point, he realized he could see the entirety of L’manberg. It looked well taken care of._

_He followed the path down. There was a small entrance. He walked though, wondering why there was nobody around._

_He caught sight of the caravan, repaired to normal. It filled him with an indescribable happiness, but he felt himself being pulled to a corner of the walls._

_He passed by the entrance to the Final Control Room, where everything went wrong. Still, he kept going forward, ignoring the lump he got in his throat._

_He stopped next to a tree. He was frozen, he didn’t know what to do._

_The scratchy sound of a music disk was playing, he was pretty sure it was Cat. That wasn’t what made him stop, though._

_Tubbo was curled up on the ground, in a large group of red flowers. Tommy was trembling._

_Next to Tubbo’s head was a gravestone. Tommy slowly read the words imprinted into the rock, feeling his heart shatter._

**_Here lies TommyInnit_ **

  
_**A hero, a fighter, a friend** _

  
**_May you have our best wishes, wherever you are_ **

_No, he wasn’t dead. This-He was right here!_

_“Tubbo!” He shouted, finally finding his voice. Tubbo didn’t move._

_“Tubbo, I’m right here! I’m still alive, please man!” Tommy told himself he wasn’t crying. Men don’t cry._

_He knew he was starting to wake up. Tubbo still didn’t show any acknowledgement to his shouting. Desperately, Tommy ran forward, falling to his knees next to his best friend._

_Tommy tried to shake Tubbo’s shoulder, but his transparent hands fazed right through. “P-Please. I-I’m right here.”_

_Tubbo didn’t move. Tommy gave up, hanging his head, ignoring the tears falling out of his eyes._

_Like that, he was gone. The only remnant he was ever there was a few damp spots on the ground._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really like the comments i get because half of them are people crying from the angst and the rest are just "philza minecraft"
> 
> also can everyone forget about that thing i said about being able to talk to animals? i dont like that idea as much anymore :/
> 
> BRO MINECRAFT STEVE IN SMASHBROS WOOOOO POGGERS!!!


	13. Chapter Twelve

Tommy awoke with a yawn, the usual pounding headache gone. He rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The window’s curtains were closed, not a single ray of vibrant light leaking through. Tommy flung them open, curious.

Thick, grey clouds covered the sky. It was so dark, he would have thought it was dusk. He could see a faint light where the sun supposedly was. He felt a small tingling, like something bigger was amiss, but he brushed it off. Maybe it was just going to rain.

Tommy tugged the white sweater on. After a bit of thinking of what Wilbur would say about his outfit, he pulled a red t-shirt on over it. With the black pants, he thought Wilbur would approve.

He walked out of the house, and was glad he wore the sweatshirt today. A cold wind blew through the streets, lifting stray leaves and papers in miniature tornadoes. He crunched a few of the leaves under his feet while walking to Blade’s house. He couldn’t help but smile as the brittle leaves were crushed with a satisfying noise.

Blade was also wearing a hoodie, this one black. He was pacing back and forth in an attempt to be warm. He perked up when he saw Tommy arrive.

“Let’s do this quickly. I’m really cold.”

Tommy surprised himself at how able he was to match Blade’s slices. They went at it for a while. Tommy could never rid the feeling that something was about to go wrong, the tension lightly floating in the air.

It was about halfway through their practice when the first shout was heard.

Blade immediately stopped, Tommy doing the same. “That sounded like it came from the gates,” Blade said, looking slightly worried. Tommy didn’t blame him. 

“Should we go check it out?” Tommy tossed the sword to the pile, already ready to go.

“Sure, but-”

Whatever Blade was going to say was cut off by a loud explosion. There were townspeople screaming, and Blade met Tommy’s eyes. The younger looked firmly determined.

He pulled out an iron sword, _where had he got that from?_ and ran towards the shouting. Tommy started to follow, before swearing under his breath. He didn’t have a weapon.

He ran as fast as he could to Jerry’s house. The man himself was already inside when Tommy barged in, out of breath. 

Jerry met Tommy’s eyes. “You’re here for a weapon, aren’t you?”

Tommy nodded, too winded to respond. Jerry sighed, going over to the broom closet. “This was supposed to be a parting gift, but I suppose you could use it now.”

Jerry brought a sword sheath out, placing it on the table. Tommy stood across, intrigued. A blue sword was pulled free from the leather, shimmering with enchantments. Tommy already knew it was a very powerful weapon.

“Enchanted with Unbreaking Three, Sharpness Five, Fire Aspect Two, and Mending. It took a lot of work, especially bargaining down prices, but it’s the most powerful sword I could make.”

Jerry slid the sword back into the sheath, handing it over with care to Tommy. “It was meant to be a parting gift, but I have a feeling you’re leaving soon anyways. You’ve shown the most potential to survive.”

Tommy looked up at Jerry. He saw a man who was aged with grief. Players would stumble in, confused and dead. He would provide them a place to stay, a place to relax while preparing to do an impossible task. He watches each one leave, and waits for the message to pop up signaling their death. And now, he was watching a teenager who showed the brightest potential, somebody he knew from a life long gone. 

“I won’t let you down.”

Tommy swung the sheath over his shoulder while he was running. It fell into a familiar position, and he knew exactly how to reach over, and pull it over his head effectively. Force of habit, a habit he had learned from years and years of fighting.

He was no Dream, and he couldn’t even begin to compare himself to Technoblade, but he was still a formidable fighter.

He pulled the sword out, turning the corner into an outburst. Many unrecognizable guardsmen fought against grey-skinned counterparts. Oh, great. It was a Raid, led by too many illagers to count. The sky rumbled, the threat of rain only closer now. 

An arrow whizzed by his head, barely missing his ear. A pillager grinned, loading another bolt into his crossbow. Tommy turned, running towards Blade, the shot fired where he was standing moments before.

Blade was hard to miss. Tommy watched for a moment as the pink-haired teenager whirled and danced, slicing and dodging like it was an intricate puzzle he had memorized. Clouds of fading ash were left in his powerful wake. 

A small stinging on Tommy’s cheek brought his attention back. A vex whirled around with a high-pitched, hollow laugh. Tommy tried to hit it, but it flew back. It managed to make a cut across his forehead before Tommy swung, cutting the small ghost in half. It disappeared in a small poof of smoke.

Blade popped up at his side, grinning despite the small cuts on his face. “Vexes are annoying, aren’t they?”

Tommy dodged an axe, sweeping the vindicator's legs from under it. “Yeah, they are.” 

Blade vanished, somehow showing up in time to save a guardsman's life. Tommy focused in front of him, both hands gripping the sword.

Another vindicator had taken the fallen one’s place, grinning with ill intent. Tommy hadn't gotten back on his feet. The axe was going to be heading straight for his chest, he had to move.

He rolled to the side. The vindicator’s axe missed, but still managed to slice a gash into his leg. He hissed in pain, stabbing upwards. He got on his feet, favoring the uninjured leg. The small pile of ash and a bloodied iron axe was all that remained.

A jagged set of stones, risen straight from the earth below, came dangerously close. The evoker who summoned them fell with a raspy cry, a sword driven though it’s chest.

Tommy winced, putting his full weight on his other leg. Adrenaline kept him from feeling the pain right now, aside from a dull throbbing, but he knew from experience once the fight was over it would hurt like hell.

Tommy wasn’t focused. He didn’t hear the squelching of boots, slowly coming closer. What he heard the winding of a crossbow, and whirled around to see-

_The arrow, it was headed straight for his chest, he couldn't move, he could only watch as it came closer, and closer, and oh no_ **_hewasgoingtodie-_ **

Somebody yanked his arm, pulling him out of death’s path. The arrow buried itself into his right arm. He stumbled.

Tommy had simply taken a moment to breathe, which was why it was his fault he almost died a second time. He was stupid, he had fought in how many wars? And he still let his guard down? He was an idiot, he deserved the wound he got.

He was shaking, pressing his hand against the arrow, just like he had before he died. He shakily sat down on the muddy ground. When had it started raining? Water dripped into his eyes, and he was sure not all of it was just rain.

The small skirmish was coming to an end. The raiders that were left were falling back, retreating to wherever they had come from. Nobody had died, which was fortunate. 

Somebody pulled the arrow from his arm. He barely noticed. He felt his arm being bandaged, and then his leg. A flash of pink hair caught his eye.

“He’s good for now, but he should get a healing potion as soon as possible,” an unrecognizable voice said. Tommy saw through the rain somebody walking away. He closed his eyes with a small groan. He had forgotten how much war sucked.

Blade, when had he got here? The teenager was snapping his fingers in front of Tommy’s face. He blinked. “M’ sorry, what was that?”

“I asked, are you doing alright?” Blade looked worried. “I noticed you freeze up. I-I don’t know how I got there so fast, but I yanked you away.”

Tommy stared down, at his bloodied leg, neatly bandaged. “Reminded me of how I died,” he mumbled.

“Oh.” Blade looked a bit uncomfortable. “I-Uh, I didn’t know. Sorry.”

They sat together, watching others helping each other up, gauging wounds. Everyone had cleared the field, and builders had started cleaning up and repairing the wall that had been blown up. Blade rose to his feet with a sigh. “My mom will be angry if I stay out too much longer.” 

Tommy nodded in understanding. He tried standing by himself, but didn’t realize how badly his leg had been hurt. “Oh-”

Blade was there, taking half his weight. Tommy shot him a grateful smile. The sword dangled from his injured arm, leaving a small trench in the dirt as they stumbled home.

Jerry had already gotten out healing potions when the two staggered through the door. Tommy lurched into a chair, immediately relaxing as exhaustion took over. He felt a glass being pressed to his lips, and he almost refused. He remembered the way Tubbo forced him to drink a healing potion, when they couldn’t spare one respawn. 

He tentatively drank the potion. Tommy felt it working, sealing up the bleeding wounds on his face, arm and leg. It restored some energy, enough to listen back in on the argument Blade was having with Jerry.

“Blade, you should have at least half. I can see all the cuts-”

“Jerry, I’m fine. We’re running low, they need to be saved.”

“The only purpose of having them is to heal people. Why are you refusing it?”

“Somebody might need it when they're on their deathbed. I don’t want to be the reason somebody died from nobody having healing potions.”

Tommy pushed himself to his feet. His leg wasn’t fully healed, but he could walk. He took the sweatshirt off with care, pulling the red shirt on over. The once white sleeve was now dyed in a horrible red, with a hole in the most obvious place. He sighed, disappointed in himself. The one thing he wanted to keep clean, and it was ruined. He put the sheathed sword on top of it.

He didn’t notice the way Blade and Jerry stopped arguing to watch him go. Blade glanced over at the ruined sweater, then back at Jerry. Wordlessly, Blade took the sweater out to wash, Jerry getting sewing supplies out.

Tommy tugged a book from the bookshelf, flopping back onto the bed with a sigh. He read the title. _CaptainSparklez_. He flipped it open to the first page.

**_Day Seven_ **

**_I’ve finally gotten around to starting this._ **

**_So, hi. I’m CaptainSparklez. I was a king. Me and my wife had a beautiful town, and she had just given birth to my son._ **

**_We thought we were safe. We shouldn’t have underestimated a god._ **

**_I assume he killed the left wing guard, then blew up a whole in the wall, letting every mob in. It was a massacre, people abruptly woken to shrill screams or explosions._ **

**_There wasn’t enough time to properly declare war, with the set amount of respawns. Herobrine is clever in that way, pre-setting the limit to only one._ **

**_The guards supposed to be defending us fell victim to the unrelenting creatures. They didn’t lack skill, they were simply overwhelmed. I sent my wife away with my son, praying they made it away safely. I was a distraction, leading them away. I killed a few, but there were still too many. I admit, I was forced to run._ **

**_I was running down the bridge that connected two of our towers, when a creeper blew up, separating me from the main bridge. Still, I got up and continued running._ **

**_It was a dead end. I was backed up, too many mobs in general. I was forced to jump._ **

**_There was water at the bottom. I missed. Broke every single bone in my body._ **

**_My only wish is for my wife and boy to be safe_ **

**_CaptainSparklez_ **

…

_CaptainSparklez was slain by Baby Zombie_

Tommy put the book back on the shelf with care. He stood back, looking at all the names. Too many to count, but he knew each one of them was a legend. They were all heroes.

He picked up his own book. Would somebody come along, reading his small messages?

He didn’t deserve to be categorized with all the legends before him. He was only a child, a loud child who had no redeeming qualities.

Tommy was going to leave in the morning. He didn’t care if he wasn’t ready. 

That meant this was his last entry.

He twirled the pencil between his fingers, finally deciding how to start. 

_Day Six_

_I know everyone else is all like “oh, let me train for a year and a half and then ill maybe be ready!” but you know what?_

_I’m ready._

_This is my last entry. My death message will be written on the next page. It’s crazy to think about, isn’t it?_

_What twisted god above decided it would be a good idea to give players another chance to live? Did they take into consideration how stupid it is, trying to beat the dragon with only one respawn?_

_I’m gonna have a word with God, once I’ve died._

_Goodbye._

_Tommy_

* * *

_Tommy had never particularly liked the music Mellohi gave._

_It was sad, and depressing. It reminded him of a funeral._

_Alas, that was the sound he was greeted with when he fell asleep. He saw Dream, sitting on the bench Tommy had made to watch the sunset. Mellohi was playing, drawn out notes making this scene much more sad._

_Tommy was sure it wasn’t the real deal. Or, maybe it was. Maybe L’manburg didn’t have independence, and were forced to trade his disks._

_Another man walked up, sitting down next to Dream without a word. The thick, white goggles, and blue shirt identified him as George._

_Dream looked like he was about to say something, but George raised his hand. “No, I don’t forgive you.”_

_Dream hung his head._

_“Maybe one day, but not today.”_

_The two friends watched the sunset on the horizon. It was fairly peaceful. Tommy was reminded of him and Tubbo._

_The warmth of the dream was beginning to fade. Tommy knew, more than ever, he had to go back home. His death had dealt more damage then they would admit._

_After all, who could live without the great TommyInnit?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fast car shifting gears noises*
> 
> hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr mbmmbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrbrbrmrmrbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr brbrbrr,r,rbrmrmrbrmrrrrrrrrmrbabrhrhrrmrmmmmmmmmmmmmrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
> 
> nyooooooooooooooooom brvoooorommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm flvromoommmmmmmmm
> 
> hrhhhhhhhrhhhhhhhhhhhhhrhrrhhhhhhhhrmmmmmmmhmhrbbbbbbb brbrmrbmbrbm
> 
> screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeertch
> 
> *takes sunglasses off* *takes a long drink of my mountain dew served in a wine glass* so will you be the hot to my wheels
> 
> ___
> 
> didnt beta read bc its midnight sorry for any grammer errors just tired


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Tommy woke up in Jerry’s house for the last time. It was only fitting that the stubborn sun cheerfully forced itself into Tommy’s room. He sat up, feeling a sudden pang of sadness.

Although he had only stayed for about a week, Tommy felt like this place was a second home. He softly took the sketch of the sky he had made all those nights ago. Opening his journal, he tucked it in next to his goodbye note. Jerry would like it more than the people would at home, he thought.

Tommy took the last shower for a while. Who knows when he’ll get the chance to be clean again? Actually, this may be the last shower he ever took. That thought sobered him up, all right. He took one last look at himself in the mirror, before turning away.

Tommy was still a little miffed about ruining the sweatshirt, but pulled on a fresh red shirt and black pants. He took one last look at the room, before closing the door. The next person who lives there would never know anything about him. 

Tommy stepped on the one squeaky step when going down the stairs, if anything to not forget about this little house. His gaze traveled over the living room, passing by the hallway that led to Jerry’s room. He had never gone down there, and probably never will. He surveyed the kitchen, eyes immediately landing on a familiar white sweatshirt.

It was restored to near perfection. Tommy quickly tied it around his waist. He didn’t want it to become dirty again, although that was likely that it would. 

There was a small note on the table. Tommy picked it up, carefully reading over the words.

_We’re waiting by the gate for you. Come once you’re ready._

_Jerry and Blade_

**but dont take too long i dont want to stand here forever**

Tommy slid the note into his pocket, stepping out of the house. A warm, pleasant breeze blew through the streets. As he walked to the front gate, he saw many villagers setting up stalls for the day. 

Squid was pulling crates of potatoes out when he caught sight of Tommy. The blue-haired boy excitedly waved him over.

"I heard you were leaving today?" Was the first thing Squid said, tilting his head slightly.

"Yeah." Tommy rubbed the back of his head. "I know others take a while to leave, but I think I'm ready."

Squid nodded, reaching into his pocket. He dropped a small keychain with a charm of a potato on it. "Uh, take this. You were pretty fun to hang out with."

Tommy smiled, clipping the charm to his belt loop. "Thanks. I'll… uh, goodbye?"

Squid shrugged. "Bye, Tommy."

The rest of the walk was uneventful. Some villagers waved at him as he passed, but aside from that he was hardly noticed. Nobody here knew what he did, what he had done. Most would get the notification he died, shrug, and move on. Quite the depressing thought.

Jerry and Blade were waiting by the front gate, the same gate Tommy had walked through only a week ago. Spirit the horse was standing near by, with a saddle and iron horse armor.

Blade waved, usually excitement gone. "Uh, hey, Tommy."

Tommy ruefully smiled back. "Hey Blade."

Blade shuffled his feet, pulling a pen out of his pocket. Grabbing Tommy's hand, the pink-haired boy scribbled something down on Tommy's hand. "This is, uh, my communicator code. If you ever get out, we could-you could contact me again." 

Tommy looked down at the mess of numbers, intending to memorize them and know them by heart. "Yeah, yeah. I'll, uh, yeah. If I survive, I'll make sure to contact you."

Jerry was holding the sword from yesterday, along with a small bag. He handed them over to Tommy. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

Tommy pulled up his inventory, something he hadn't done since dying. The bag had sixteen loaves of bread, half a stack of cobblestone, twenty torches, and an iron pickaxe. Tommy nearly organized them, before closing his inventory. The items were stored in a small subspace bubble, ready to be summoned forth at his command. 

"We figured we should pull some stuff together for you. Players who start off with items usually last longer."

Timmy didn't want to question that statistic. He tightened the sword sheath around his chest, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon on his back.

"You may not need the torches, since dead people glow, but they'll probably be useful," Blade said, fidgeting with the armor on Spirit. The horse nickered, seemingly in annoyance.

Tommy looked back over the town of dead people with a pang of… nostalgia? Melancholy? He wasn't sure. He glanced over to the two people and animal with him. His former mentor, a very different version of Technoblade, and Dream's dead horse.

Tommy sighed, pulling himself into the saddle on Spirit. 

"You should go west, towards the forest. One you get there, let Spirit go. He's a smart horse, he knows his way back."

Tommy shifted in the saddle. "Which way is west again?"

"Oh, just follow the setting sun." Jerry pointed in the direction he was supposed to go.

Tommy scowled. "Just tell me left or right, big man."

Jerry gave him an odd look. "It's… uh, neither? Just go west."

"I don't know which way is west!"

"Just-" Jerry sighed. "I forgot how…"

"How what, big man?" Tommy asked.

"Nevermind. Spirit knows where to go." Jerry turned, about to head back into the village, Blade following suit.

"Wait." Suddenly, Tommy didn't want to go. He had made friends here. He could stay, train a little longer, get a little better. He wasn’t ready, he was going to die.

Blade glanced back, and Tommy was reminded of Tubbo. What was he thinking? Had he forgotten how horribly everyone was reacting back home? He had to go try. The longer Tommy stayed, the worse all the people at home would become. 

"Just wanna say thanks." Tommy pat Spirit on his neck, avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, you're welcome. I'll talk to you soon." And like that, Blade and Jerry were gone. 

Tommy nudged the horse forward. How was Blade so confident in Tommy? He himself was pretty certain he would die, but Blade spoke with confidence, just like Techno would. 

Tommy pulled the sweater from his waist. He examined it carefully, before opening his inventory and storing it away. Now it shouldn't get dirty.

Spirit was fast, but the endless ride to the forest was boring. Tommy had watched behind him until the village faded into small dots on the horizon. Spirit had gone over a hill, and the village disappeared. 

He was currently staring ahead. He had eaten half of a loaf of bread. The steady bounce of the horse under him was the only difference from the repetition of the landscape. It was just flowers and grass, as far as the eye could see. When he wasn’t looking ahead, he was looking at his hand, intending to memorize Blade’s communicator code. _527423._

The sun was setting on the horizon, bathing the sky with soft pinks and oranges. Tommy used his hand to shield his eyes from the bright sun.

He considered slowing down Spirit, and making a small shelter for the night. He didn’t want to die on his first day out, after all. But the white horse continued on, even when the sun set and the moon rose.

Tommy saw many mobs, but Spirit ran past like they weren't there. An occasional arrow would whiz by, but even in the afterlife skeletons had horrible aim. 

He didn’t know how Spirit didn’t collapse from exhaustion. He felt very tired himself, and the rocking of the horse didn’t help.

Tommy must have fallen asleep, because he didn’t remember arriving at the forest. It was still night, the moon almost setting.  
  
Spirit stopped, letting out a small snort. Tommy stumbled off the horse, saddle sore and still half asleep.

He rubbed his eyes, looking at the forest in front of him. It was a normal oak forest, with said oak trees scattered around. He could see it got denser farther in.

Tommy turned, acknowledging the glowing horse beside him. “I, uh, you’re free to go home now.”

The horse bobbed his head like he was agreeing, before turning and running off as fast as he came. Tommy looked back into the forest.

It was a good thing he was his own light source, as holding a flaming torch surely would have set the whole forest on fire. It was wild and untamed. Tommy was surprised there were no mobs trying to attack him, but he kept his sword ready in his hands just in case.

He wasn’t even sure where he was going. Should he try to find a cave? He had to get to the nether, get blaze rods and ender pearls. Surely he should start underground, unless there were ruined portals in this dimension.

The sun had begun to shine with morning light, softly illuminating the forest. Tommy pushed through a set of bushes with an irritated sigh. His foot kicked a loose rock. It clattered, echoing as if it had gone down a cave. His eyes caught on exposed stone, and after digging up a few pieces of dirt he would see there was indeed a cave. It looked fairly deep as well.

Before entering, Tommy cut down a tree. It would be stupid to enter a cave without wood, as previous deaths had proven. 

The sun had finally risen up enough to set the forest in light when Tommy deemed he had enough wood. The only problem he may have is the lack of food, but he could probably manage.

Tommy took the iron pickaxe out from his inventory, carrying it in one hand. The sword was sheathed again, but he could easily drop the pick and pull it out.

He passed some coal. Mining a few pieces, he continued downward. He passed through huge caverns, larger than the ones he had ever seen back home. Jagged pieces of rocks dangled from the ceiling, threatening to fall at a moment's notice. He was careful to avoid them.

Tommy continued through the cave, picking up the occasional iron and coal. He wasn’t deep enough to get the good ores. Tommy set up a small camp in the middle of another large opening. Iron was placed into blast furnaces, and he patiently waited for them to solidify into bars he could use to make armor. 

He had enough to make a chestplate, leggings, and boots, with three left over. He made a bucket out of those three, scooping up some water from a puddle formed in the corner. 

Tommy gathered up all the stuff he had placed at his make-shift camp, continuing farther down. The tunnel closed in slowly, until it was much smaller than its original size. A flash of green caught his eye, and in a second his sword was in his hand, searching for the creeper he swore he saw. Tommy’s flickering eyes landed on the small patch of green moss he had mistaken for a creeper. He sighed, putting the sword away and picking up the pickaxe.

He crouched next to the moss, poking it experimentally. He had never seen moss underground, aside from monster spawners. Did monster spawners exist in the afterlife?

Tommy stood, moving on past the moss. It kept appearing, and it wasn’t until Tommy brushed a vine out of his way he realized he had never seen a cave like this before.

Lush, green vegetation grew from cracks in the wall, thriving off pools of water on the floor. Small, animal noises came from the pond, and a small creature that looked like an axolotl poked its head out from the water.

Tommy decided to make camp there for the night. He was tired from a day of riding a horse and doubting himself. This lush cave seemed safe, safe enough for him to sleep.

  
  
The moss was quite comfortable, he found as he piled it together to make a make-shift bed. He rolled over, staring at the small pond of water. The little pink animal from before popped up again, before disappearing under the water. He sighed, closing his eyes. It was a semi-successful first day.

At least Tommy hadn’t died yet, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey gamers! its Q&A time!
> 
> leave ur gamer questions below, if you have any. i will willingly answer all of them. i wont be spoiling anything, but itll still be kinda fun i think since this story blew up for some reason lmao.
> 
> this is always open! feel free to come back if you have any questions on recent chapters.
> 
> anyways i hope you all have a good day/night! <3


	15. Chapter Fourteen

The water gently gurgled as the little stream trickled down the cave. It seemed to be sloping downwards, which was good. Tommy didn’t want to resort to digging straight down. 

Tommy had waken up a while ago, and continued down the tunnel. He left behind the lush, green plants and axolotls, continuing his journey downwards. He unknowingly followed this little stream of water, and now it was just Tommy following a stream down a damp, dark tunnel. It was getting colder, and it would have been really hard for Tommy to see if he wasn't glowing.

The tunnel split into two. The stream followed the left, which seemed to even out. Tommy continued ahead, going deeper still. It was really dark now, Tommy hardly being able to see the rocks in front of him. It would have been pitch black without his side-effect of glowing.

The cave suddenly flattened out. Tommy took a moment to catch his breath, leaning against the closest wall. He was hoping to stumble across a ravine or a cave. He could strip mine, but he didn’t know what Y-level he was on, since he was missing his communicator. Tommy could always retrace his steps and look for lava, but even then he would like to find diamonds. He could usually build a portal without the need for a diamond pickaxe, but it was the risk of his life that made him more cautious. Having a diamond pickaxe would come in handy anyways.

He was about to double back, and continue following the stream of water, when he saw a flash of… what? Was it blue? Had he found diamonds?

Tommy crept closer, couching down next to the odd plant. He had originally thought it was diamonds, but this little thing was more turquoise. As he looked around, he could see more of the plants scattered around, leading farther down the narrow tunnel. He experimentally poked the small cluster.

_Skulg, skulg, skulg._

Tommy’s head snapped up, watching the little plants make noises. The noise seemed to transmit to others, causing them to waver as the signal echoed down the tunnel. How odd.

Tommy stood. There was no way to determine how deep he was, but he continued down the tunnel. It widened out, thankfully. His foot would occasionally brush against a plant, and the _skulg_ noise would scatter through the tunnel. The ground was replaced with this dark blue stuff. It kind of reminded Tommy of the End.

A thud caused some stray pebbles to shake, some catching into the cobwebs on the walls. Tommy hardly noticed. It was quite common for underground tunnels to shake, with creepers and their tendency to randomly explode.

There was another thud. Again, Tommy just brushed it off as a creeper explosion.

Then there was another. And another. And they were steadily coming closer to Tommy.

He cautiously backed up. He crushed one of the clusters of bulbous plants under his foot.

_Skulg, skulg, skulg._

The thuds stopped for a moment. Tommy sighed, about to turn and go back up the tunnel.

Whatever was heavy enough to cause the ground to shake suddenly sped up, heading exactly to where Tommy was. He reacted quickly, making a small hole in the wall and boxing himself inside. He didn’t survive all those wars only on luck. Well, a lot of it was luck based, but Tommy had sharp instincts.

It, whatever _It_ was, stopped outside of Tommy’s small hiding spot. He didn’t dare breathe. His heart beat loudly, or was it the creature outside?

There was no sound of breathing. All he could hear was the occasional shifting of rocks. Was it an iron golem?

Tommy heard It turn, and it’s heavy footsteps wander down the tunnel. Tommy carefully mined his way out of the cubby hole.

He caught sight of It. It was dark turquoise, a few shades darker than the plants. Horns produced from it’s dark head. It’s arms were more of a sandstone color. What was it?

Whatever it was, it looked very strong. It’s shape resembled that of an iron golem, and Tommy knew those metal beings could pack a punch. If this thing was anything like the flower-loving guardians of villages, then Tommy should get out as fast as he could. It may be passive, like the iron golem, but it just looked like it was a hostile mob.

Tommy quietly backed away. He turned, about to run full speed up the tunnel. His hand brushed against a plant on the wall.

_Skulg, skulg, skulg._

Uh oh.

The thing whirled around faster than Tommy would expect. Tommy froze, eyes staring at the things… face?

  
Where it should have a face, there was only a gaping mouth, shaped slightly in the shape of a frown. It’s chest resembled more of a ribcage, with a glowing turquoise light inside. The light looked like a heart, and the loud beating of said heart sent shivers of fear through Tommy. It made a loud, gurgling noise, before lumbering towards Tommy.

Now, Tommy had seen quite the frightening things in his day-to-day life. He’s seen gruesome wounds, he’s seen the land flung up with the force of explosives under the ground, he’s walked in on Fundy showering (why the stupid furry had the curtain opened was beyond Tommy), he’s seen somebody he could trust betray him in an instant. But none of those things (well, aside from the shower incident _geez he would never recover from that_ ) brushed against the fear he felt with this… _thing_ stomping over.

Tommy snapped back, darting to the other side of the cave and pushing himself against the wall. The thing didn't have any eyes, so maybe it relied on the signal made from the plants. If that was so, Tommy would be safe on the other side of the wall, since it probably couldn't hear or see. At least, he hoped.

It wasn't until It had gotten close enough for Tommy to make out the different shades on it's arm that he realized this was a horrible idea. Skeletons didn't have eyes, yet they were able to pinpoint a player without any trouble. The thing may still have vision, and that would be bad for the boy cowering against the wall. 

It was looking around where Tommy had brushed against the plant. Quickly thinking, he picked up a stray rock, and threw it far down the tunnel. It activated many of the plants, like he hoped. The noises rang out. The rock tumbled down the cavern, activating more as it went. Like Tommy hoped, the thing turned around, lumbering away as fast as it came.

_Now._

Tommy slowly crept back up, avoiding every single piece of turquoise in his path. There was the first little group of bulbous plants he had poked. Tommy almost crushed them under his foot, grinding them into pulp, but they would alert the beast to him. Tommy, quite frankly, would rather not be chased by the thing that looked like it came out of nightmares.

Fate, though, had other ideas.

Tommy was stumbling down the shaft when he realized that he was running the wrong way. The only way to get back to his old path, he would have to pass the thing, and well… he would rather not.

He continued his walk down the mine, being careful to avoid the plants. They seemed to be grouped into clusters, as if they were slowly spreading. Maybe he could find another way out. He didn’t want to dig up, with the risk of lava or gravel being dumped on his head. Tommy just hoped that this cave didn’t end in a dead end. The longer he spent down here with that thing, the longer he felt unsafe.

Tommy’s eyes landing on another light source. Upon closer inspection, he saw they were little candles, lighting the entrance to an abandoned shelter. He curiously poked his head inside.

Wooden beams of stripped oak held up the roof, much like an abandoned mineshaft. On the right side, Tommy could see a chest with a smoker on one side of the room. Barrels lined the wall in front of him, and a dusty bed laid unused on the left side. Cobwebs coated the whole place. He cleared them away with his sword.

Tommy checked in the barrels first. They were relatively empty, aside from the few iron and coal he found in the first one. The second had very, very dried and slightly rotten carrots and moldy bread. He chose to leave those alone. The third barrel had a nearly broken iron sword, with fractured pieces of black armor at the bottom. Tommy picked up a shard. Was this… _netherite_? What could break such a strong material so easily?

He left the sword and remnants of netherite in the barrel. The smoker had a very dried out and molded piece of what Tommy thought was steak. That left the chest. 

Tommy flipped the lid open, coughing at the dust that flew at his face. Inside, he found some common materials, like sticks and cobblestone. What was different was the book he found.

Tommy dusted off the cover. There was no name. He flipped to the first page, being very careful. The paper felt like it would crumble to dust in his hand if he was too rough.

_I started this so that any player who finds it_

_You have to be careful okay? Those wardens can pick up on the noises made from the skulk plants. Theyre blind but that doesnt stop them from being able to sense you. You just have to be very very very quiet and sneaky and you should be fine I think_

The letter was very hastily written, grammar errors and words blending together making it obvious. Tommy gently turned to the next page.

_Ive never seen any mob like that before_

_Ive been to the nether and i got netherite and everything but still it doesnt feel like its enough to stop it. Its uh like an uh_

_iron golem but stronger? i havent got hit by one yet but its ery terrifying and i wouldnt want to agrivate it_

This one was just like the first. Tommy frowned slightly, turning the next page. Coincidentally, it was also the last page.

_DONT TRY TO FIGTH IT!_

_ITS WAY TO STRONG IT BROKE MY NETHERIET ARMOR IN ONLY ONE HIT AND I DONT HINK I CAN LAST MUCH LONGER_

_IVE LEFT SOME ~~SUPPLIS~~ THINGS IN MY CHESTS ABD BARRELTS FEEL FREE TO USE TEHN_

_I DONT WANT TO DIE HBUT I THINK T HIS IS WHERE IT GEST ME TELL DR TrreY IM SORRY_

_DANTHEDIAM_

The note cut off abruptly. There were spots of dark red on the corner of the pages. If Tommy remembered right, DanTDM had died from a zombie. It must not have been long after this was written.

Tommy sat on the bed. It creaked, and dust billowed up from where he sat. So. He shouldn’t fight the warden.

He put his head in his hands. It was very… it was an odd feeling, what Tommy was feeling right now. He felt… it was hard to explain. 

He felt pity, because this man obviously was prepared enough to survive. The guy had netherite! He seemed set, but happened to come across a mob that did too much damage. He felt anger, because this man should have known better then to try to fight… whatever that thing was. It was terrifying, and obviously strong. Although, maybe it hadn’t been his fault. Maybe he accidentally aggravated it.

Tommy pulled up his inventory, staring at the white sweater folded neatly in its little square. Looking away, Tommy put the book in next to it. Now Dan wouldn’t be forgotten.

It was a little selfish. Tommy frowned, he should leave a letter for any other unfortunate travelers, should he?

Using the wood he had, and the crafting table, he was able to craft a sign. He thought a bit about his message, then wrote what he hoped would get the point across.

_THAT MOB THING IS VER_

_Y STRONG DONT TRY TO_

_FIGHT IT! BE REALLY QUI_

_ET! ITS BLIND! BE SAFE_

There. That should get the general idea across. Tommy blocked up the entrance with cobblestone, before sitting back down on the bed. He stared at the crafting table, and suddenly imagined something.

  
_Dan, a blue haired man, hastily scribbling down something on a paper. His broken armor and sword were in the barrel. He could craft more, first he had to get this written down._

_A loud sound of a door breaking startled the man. Hastily, he closed the book, shoving it into the closet chest. The zombie broke though, gurgling. There were many behind it, too many to fight with just his fists._

_Dan scrambled to get his sword, but he was already weakened from the warden. Nobody was there to hear his final screams as the last life he had was stolen away._

Tommy gasped. He stared at the dust on the floor, noticing how more seemed to gather around the chest. The human body decays, leaving behind bones that eventually crumble into dust-

He slammed his eyes shut, gripping the side of his head. What happened to Dan was tragic, but he had to stop thinking about that. He wouldn’t get anywhere mourning somebody who was long, long gone. Tommy had to stop those images, just like how he blocked out the particularly bad parts of the multiple wars. It was the only way Tommy got through his days without having a panic attack. So what, he had trauma? He was strong, he could bear it.

These people before him had died, but he would make sure they didn’t do so in vain. Tommy would be the first person to get out. Technoblade didn’t count, because Technoblade never died.

Tommy tuned his back, laying down on the musty bed. Unknown to him, multiple ghosts of past legends watched over him, hoping that maybe he would finally be the one to be free. Or maybe there would be another to join them in their ranks.

The transparent man with blue hair shared a look with a man dressed in kingly attire. The man with sunglasses and gold chains, the woman dressed in a white and blue sweater, the man in blue and black armor and glowing blue eyes, and the short girl with twitching grey wolf ears and a swishing tail. These legends in particular watched over this boy’s journey. They had all put their blessings on him. Others softly shook their heads. They were wasting the blessings. This kid would die, and then the ghosts would slowly fade away. It happened all the time.

Then those that watched the boy would smile, because they trusted this tall kid. They had seen his past memories, the wars he fought in. Sure, he may have appeared annoying, but they saw his skills.

This kid, he had a good chance. He could actually have an opportunity. These legends would make sure of that. After all, if he got out, the ghosts who blessed him would follow. They couldn't interact, and could only trail behind him but that was alright. They could see the world, watch over this boy as he grew, until he got old and died. He could join them, and then they would all watch over the generations as they passed. He had definitely earned his place in their ranks.

Why not cheer for him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was rewatching the cave and cliffs update video and uhhhhh lets just ignore the fact the plants and the warden pick up on vibrations uhhhhh its only when they come in contact that they react uhhhhhhh


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Tommy sighed, dragging his hand along the cold, stone wall beside him. He had left behind Dan’s shelter a while ago, continuing his trek down the musty tunnel. He hadn’t seen any more clusters of the plants, or the warden for that matter.

Tommy pulled the half of bread he had saved, munching on it while he walked. The passage was deprived of ores, just grey, hard rock surrounding him.

He idly thought about living underground. If he ever had to run from L’manburg for some reason, living under the surface wouldn’t be too bad. Easy to hide, and he could create a whole network of tunnels without drawing any attention to his living space.

He shook his head, dusting his hands off to rid them from the bread crumbs. What was Tommy thinking? He would never get kicked out of L’manburg. He had given his life up for it, for hell’s sake! Even if he did, he was certain all his friends would valiantly overthrow the person who took over, because there was no way Wilbur would kick him out. Wilbur was level-headed, about as calm and collected as they come. Tommy couldn’t recall a time where Wilbur had snapped from pressure. So even if Tommy annoyed Wilbur, the worst that could happen would be Wilbur sending him home for the day. Even then, he could always pull the _I died for this!_ card.

Tommy stopped for a moment, catching his breath. Why was he so tired? He had only been walking on the slightly uneven ground. He glanced back, and almost burst out laughing from giddiness.

The floor had been steadily sloping upwards. Tommy grinned. He wouldn’t have to backtrack after all!

The cave widened out, continuing its slope upwards. Tommy could now see much better, the previous crushing darkness gone. He turned a corner, and his smile grew. He couldn’t believe his luck.

He had stumbled into a ravine. And a few paces in front of him was a shiny blue ore.

Tommy counted the diamonds he had. There were eight in the vein he found, which meant he could craft a pickaxe and make his way to the nether. That would leave five. He had no need to craft a sword, since he already had one. An enchantment table might be nice, but for the time being Tommy decided to save the extra for later.

There was nothing else of real value in the cave, aside from the coal, redstone, and iron inconveniently high up on the walls. There was no lava, despite how deep Tommy was. That only left him to continue forward.

A thud startled him. In a second, Tommy had twirled around, tossing the iron pickaxe aside and pulling his sword out. He relaxed, seeing the pile of rotten flesh on the ground. A zombie must have slipped and fell. What an idiot.

Tommy went to pick up his pickaxe, thrown against the wall. His eyes caught on an orange ore, which he had first mistaken for iron. He mined it, curious.

It looked like it had to be smelted. Tommy shrugged, tossing it back on the ground. He was too lazy to properly smelt it. It was probably discolored iron anyway.

There was another thud of something hitting the ground. Tommy didn’t bother turning around, figuring it was just another zombie that had fallen to its demise. That was his excuse for the creeper blowing up behind him, throwing him face-first into the wall.

Tommy stumbled back, turning around albeit a bit sluggish. There was nothing to prove the creeper’s existence, aside from the small crater in the ground. He licked his lips, tasting blood. Oh, that was probably not that good. Tommy shoved a hand up against his nose, feeling the blood pool up against his fingers. So his nose was bleeding everywhere. Just great.

It didn’t hurt too badly, so it must not be broken. His head hurt, as did his whole body, but that was an expected side-effect of being shoved into a wall by an explosion.

Tommy pulled up his inventory. Taking another loaf of bread, he sat back on a rock. He ate the whole bread, keeping a careful watch for any more mobs falling from the ceiling.

His nose stopped bleeding, but now Tommy’s hand was coated in blood. He sighed, standing up. He would wash it off as soon as he got the chance. His face must look horrible as well. His hand had stopped the flow of blood but caused it to effectively spread across the lower part of his face. Oh well, nothing he could do about it right now.

Tommy continued down the ravine. There was a small hole he had to widen, but doing so revealed another cavern. He was fortunate to not have run into any dead ends.

This tunnel was very narrow, and Tommy had to occasionally destroy stone when it got too cramped. He saw a torch casting its own light, and decided to make his way over.

Tommy found himself in an abandoned mineshaft. He took the ever burning torch, waving it around to burn some cobwebs away. Dan must not have made it this far, since it looked relatively untouched. 

Tommy headed down, under the wooden beams holding up the weight of tons of rocks. Railroad tracks littered the floor. There was a minecart with a chest inside idly sitting in the middle of a section. Tommy put the torch on the wall, pushing the chest open. 

What was his luck today?

Tommy pulled the shining gold coated apple from the chest. He admired it. These things were quite rare, ever since players mysteriously lost the ability to make them by hand. Despite how long it must have sat in that old chest, it looked in peak condition. He tucked the enchanted golden apple into the hotbar of his inventory, the items on priority. He would probably need it later.

There was nothing else in the chest, aside from a name tag and a few left-over rails. Tommy let them be, picking the torch back up. He didn’t really need the torch, but something about it was comforting. An old, familiar way of holding a pickaxe in one hand, the other holding the light source. The only problem was that it showed Tommy just how bloodied his hand was, since it was the ruined hand holding it. He really needed to find a water source.

Not once did it occur to him to use the water bucket he had in his inventory.

As he walked, Tommy couldn’t help but hum a familiar song that came to mind.

_I heard there was a special place…_

Tommy doubled back, having run into a dead end.

_Where men could go and emancipate._

He built up, using the cobblestone Blade had given him. The mineshaft continued above.

_The brutality, and the tyranny of their rulers._

Tommy’s eyes caught sight of cobblestone. Was this place really unexplored, or had Dan just left the gapple in the chest?

_Well, this place is real, you need not fret._

Tommy heard the growls and hisses of zombies. He didn’t have to turn the corner to see the mossy cobble, revealing this was a zombie spawner.

_With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo! Screw Eret!_

Did he really want to risk himself for maybe a valuable thing in the chests?

_It’s a very big and not blown up L’manburg!_

Yes. Yes he did.

_My L’manburg!_

Tommy turned the corner, oh piss there was more than he thought-

_My L’manburg!_

They all snapped their heads to him. Tommy just had to slam a torch down on the spawner, it shouldn’t be that hard.

_My L’manbu-_

His humming abruptly cut off. While he was occupied keeping the many zombies away, he didn't notice the green bomb sneak up behind him. All he had was a loud hiss, and he was suddenly thrown against the wall. _Stupid creepers and their stupid silence he should have a made a shield this was the second time today-_

Tommy got back on his feet. The creeper had conveniently blown up the majority of the zombies, only leaving a few that he easily cleaned. He placed the torch down, using some that he had been gifted to quickly dispel anymore from spawning.

The room stinked of decaying bodies, as they normally do. Tommy gagged, quickly opening up the only chest. Nothing.

He slammed the lid down. He just got blown up by a creeper for the second time, and it was all for a few pieces of string and other junk?

Tommy scowled, breaking the spawner. Sure, he had gotten lucky, but every time he did he immediately got blown up right after. “Karma,” he muttered under his breath.

Tommy stomped down the mineshaft. He didn’t bother getting the iron and coal he saw on the walls, but he did pick up some of the lapis lazuli he saw.

The mineshaft jutted out over a deep expanse of cave, wood replacing the stone floor. Tommy peered around, seeing a glowing light coming from a small pocket in the corner. He carefully made his way down, using the side of the cavern and cobblestone to make a stairway down.

He trotted over to the lava, noticing the water spreading across it. Tommy quickly washed off his hand, scrubbing the dried blood away with a relieved sigh. He never did like the way blood dried, stubbornly staining clothing and clinging to skin.

Tommy dunked his face in the water, flinching at the cold shock it gave him. He scrubbed at his face, feeling the blood flake away. He resurfaced, carefully feeling his face for any bits he might have missed.

He started to get the obsidian right away. He stood in the cold water, swinging his recently crafted diamond pickaxe over and over.

Tommy collected enough of the black rock to make a portal. Making the base of the portal on the obsidian already there, he built his portal up. Tommy stood back, hands on his waist. Now all he had to do was light it-

Tommy opened his inventory.

He looked over at the pile of gravel in the other corner.

The ghosts watched him. The black armored man nudged the woman with the blue and white shirt. _“Didn’t you die in the nether, Stacy?”_

Stacy nodded. _“Yes, I did. I hope he comes across my shelter.”_

Pat watched the kid struggle to get flint. _“You could always gently push him in the right direction, like Dan did.”_

Stacy fiddled with the hem of her shirt. _“I could, but I’m not sure he would… if it would work. I’m not sure it will work, yeah.”_

Pat silently placed a hand on her shoulder.

The king stood, hands regally clasped behind his back. _“He was humming earlier. Do you know what song he was humming, Sky?”_

The man in sunglasses chuckled, short and sarcastic. _“Just because I’m a musician doesn’t mean I happen to know every song, Captain.”_

_“Well, at least I didn’t slip into lava-”_

_“You died to a child zombie!”_

_“It was fast, and I was already weak from falling!”_

_“Oh sure. That doesn’t change the fact it was a literal baby! How could you die to that?”_

_“Okay, listen, you have no room to talk. You just_ slipped _into the lava! You didn’t even make it into your portal!”_

The man with shockingly blue hair sighed at the twos bickering. He turned to the short woman next to him, adjusting the goggles on his head. _“He’s going quite fast, isn’t he?”_

Aphmau’s ear twitched. She took a bit to respond, long enough for Dan to question whether or not she heard him.

_“Yeah, he is. Hopefully he’s careful. Although, to be honest, he doesn’t seem like the type to take caution. Did you see how he just ran into the spawner?”_

Dan shuddered. Aphmau winced. _“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot-”_

_“No, no. It’s alright.”_ Dan waved his hand. _“Like you said, he doesn’t seem like the cautionary type. More act first, think later. Maybe that’s how he died.”_

_“Well, you read how he died in the bow duel?”_ Aphmau asked.

Dan nodded. _“Poor guy, thrust into a war at such a young age.”_

_“In his dreams, also. I usually hope for the best with players, but you saw how hard his death was on all his friends and family. That’s why he has my blessing.”_

Dan was about to respond, when he heard a small shout of victory from the teenager they were watching.

Tommy lit the portal with a spark, finally getting a flint from the gravel. The ghosts all stopped their conversations, watching the boy enter the portal.

Pat nodded to Stacy, letting her enter the portal first. The arguing king and musician followed next, leaving the werewolf and the miner. 

Dan let her go in first. He took one last look behind him, before following his last hope into the fiery dimension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG IM IN A DISCORD SERVER AND SOMEBODY MENTIONED MY FIC!?!?! AND BY THE TIME I SAW IT WAS TOO LATE TO JUST SAY “HEY I WROTE THAT" AND IM TOO SCARED TO @ THE PERSON BUT IF UR READING THIS UHHHH HI SMILE
> 
> anyways if u in the level 30 enchantments discord server hi im in it as well. i dont talk much i just ✨lurk✨


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_I hate the nether._

Tommy scowled, stomping across the hot, red material below him. A new gold helmet sat in his head, one of the first things he crafted once he got here. It was hot, so hot. He wanted to take all his armor off, but he couldn’t. It could be his lifesaver.

But why did the nether have to be so hot?

He had no way of marking down the coordinates to his portal. Too fast, he had lost where his portal was. Maybe he should have taken the extra time to collect enough obsidian to make another portal.

Oh well. Focus on getting the blaze rods now, think about being trapped in the nether later.

Tommy sighed, stopping at the edge of a cliff. He could see boiling lava far below, with groups of striders basking in the hot liquid. He scanned around the open area for a nether fortress, but there was none in sight. The red haze in the distance prevented him from fully seeing around.

He grumbled, turning away and carefully making his way down the cliff. He had to occasionally mine some of the soft, red netherrack, making an odd spongy noise for his every step. Maybe Tommy should have asked Dream to help him learn to speedrun, instead of chatting with the other invisible spectators.

Speedrunning was a hard sport. The runner had to try to kill the ender dragon as fast as possible. It seems simple in concept, but it caused a lot of pain, from the countless deaths every runner experienced, to the disappointment of not getting a better time. Personally, Tommy found speedrunning to be too grueling, too much commitment for a small chance for reward. Then again, Dream’s constant training had landed him fourth in the whole community of players, which was wildly impressive. And, obviously, Dream had gotten much better at PvP and making split second decisions. The few times Tommy decided to spectate him, he could see how good of a player the masked man was. Oh, good times, back when Tommy didn’t spend all his time in the DreamSMP, back when him and Dream weren't on opposing sides of a war.

Tommy had made it to another level. He dragged his pickaxe behind him, the sharp iron point making a small trench in the weak netherrack. He could see the tops of red tree-like plants, native to the nether. He might as well travel though there.

A grunt of a piglin startled Tommy from his thoughts. The humanoid pig tilted their head, the crossbow not loaded. Tommy dug a spare bar of gold from his inventory, tossing it to the pig. After examining it, the pig tossed back a potion. Tommy examined the liquid, a mix of pink and orange. It must be fire resistance. Tommy nodded to the pig, putting the potion in his hotbar. Good trade.

Why didn’t the piglins learn to mine, if they valued gold so much? Gold was very common in the nether. In fact, Tommy could see some nuggets sticking out of a near piece of netherrack. They should just adapt, learn to dig the pieces out.

Whatever. Tommy would never fully understand mobs.

He idly took to potion out, running his thumb along the cork keeping the liquid inside. If he drank it, would it not be as hot in here? Would he not feel as sweaty and suffocated in his armor? A tantalizing thought, but he should just hold on to it. Maybe it’ll save him later.

Tommy reached the red biome, home to huge, mutant pig things that were way too strong. Before entering, Tommy gathered some wood from the closest tree. Turning the “wood” into purple planks, he made a crafting table, and then a shield with some of his left-over iron. Tommy adjusted the strap of his shield, fitting it snugly onto his left arm. There, he should be set to go now. He pulled out his sword, entering the blood-red forest.

Red vines snaked down, Tommy having to slice through many in his way. They limply fell to the ground, but the part that was still living was bound to grow back. His foot crushed a blue mushroom with orange specks. In hindsight, he should have picked up one of those.

He picked his way down a steep slope, the dim lights from the shroomlights faintly illuminating his path. He slipped, falling down a good distance. He cursed loudly, his ankle twisting slightly. It wasn’t that bad, and would heal rather quickly, but it still hurt.

Tommy continued forward, although now he stepped with a faint limp. He came to another cliff face. This time Tommy could see land far below, with lava bubbling at it’s shore. He inhaled, breathing in the hot fumes. 

Tommy took out a loaf of bread, taking a bite. The faster his ankle healed, the better. He felt the wound begin to heal as the food went to work, his already fast healing sped up. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the horizon through the fog. Was there even a horizon in the nether?

Tommy’s eyes caught sight of a black building, huge and cubed shape. Was that a bastion? It wasn’t as good as a nether fortress, but it could still be beneficial.

Tommy was debating on weather or not to head to the bastion. It would take a bit of time, since it looked to be mainly built in the lava. He could either build across (bad idea, ghasts could knock him off), or circle the lake (also a bad idea, who knows how big the pool of lava was). He didn’t have a saddle, or string to make a fishing rod, so he couldn’t travel across on a strider. 

His decision was made for him, one that he hadn’t even considered. 

He heard a grunt of a hoglin, and didn’t have enough time to whirl around. Still, he tried, attempting to block the mutant pig’s headbut with his shield.

The attack caught him in the side, flinging him off the cliff. His sword spun out of his grip, twirling, shimmering blue flying away. _No!_

He had greater problems to worry about. He flipped in the air, pulling out the potion. It was a good thing he saved it. Drinking was quite difficult while falling, but he managed to get most of the potion down. He felt himself start to cool down, that was good.

The lava was approaching at a rapid pace. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and then-

_ARG WHY IS IT SO HOT?_

Even with the potion, the lava burned. Tommy clawed his way to the surface, his eyes burning. He knew from past experience he could breathe under the lava, but he hadn’t gotten all the effects of the potion, which also explained why the lava still felt very hot.

His head broke the surface with a gasp. The edge of the netherrack was close, too close. If the hoglin had flung Tommy just a little less hard, he would have crashed into the ground. Nobody could survive a fall that high, unless they had feather falling or resistance, neither of which Tommy had.

Tommy slowly paddled over, wanting to get out as soon as possible. Swimming with a shield was awkward, but he wasn't too far from land. He stumbled onto the netherrack, falling into a sitting position. He was still winded from the hoglin’s attack.

All the things that happened in the past few seconds caught up to him. Tommy almost died, right then and there. His death message would have popped up, _TommyInnit fell from a high place whilst trying to escape Hoglin,_ and all hopes of seeing Tubbo again would have vanished.

His sword, where was his sword? He stumbled to his feet. Oh, he hoped to any god that the sword had landed here, and not in the lava.

A glint of blue caught his eye, and he staggered over. The sword was buried to its hilt in the netherrack. Tommy yanked it out. It was still in tip-top condition, ghostly flames dancing along the blade.

Tommy turned back, slumping against the wall with a sigh. Orange particles floated off him, showing he still had fire resistance. The bastion sat far away, taunting him. Maybe once Tommy recovered from being flung off a cliff, he could go bargain with another piglin for a new potion.

Tommy was tired. He should have slept before entering the nether. He built a small box around himself, making sure nothing was going to attack him while he was asleep. 

He slid back down. He was just going to close his eyes for a moment.

The ghosts watched over the boy who had his second close death experience as he slept.

_"Did you see that? I managed to push him a bit farther out! If I didn't, he would have died. I'm the reason he's still alive!"_ Sky waved his hands, excitement ringing in his tone.

The king sighed, adjusting his glasses ever so slightly. _"Yes, but I knocked his sword away from the lava. If I hadn't, he would currently be without a weapon."_

_"Yeah, I mean that's great and all, but he would be D. E. A. D. if I didn't do what I did. Doesn't matter if his sword lives, because he would be deceased! Gone!"_

_"Well, I assumed you had it under control. I know first hand that having a weapon is crucial in order to survive."_

_"Of course I was capable! The whole reason I'm here, as a ghost, is because I died from falling! It's painful, and nobody should have to experience it."_

_"Oh? And can you also tell me how it feels to burn to death? Because if he hadn't managed to drink enough of the potion, he would have burned to death! You saw how close he was, seeing as his shield and armor almost burnt-"_

_"Burning in lava isn't that pleasant either, mister big shot! But I felt I should have at least given him a chance, instead of uselessly swatting his sword-"_

The two ghosts continued bickering, Sky eventually throwing the first punch. They tousled on the ground, the other ghosts sighing as they watched. Ghosts couldn’t feel pain, so fist fights like this were practically useless. Still, it seemed to relieve some anger from the two. Why they seemed to have such a grudge against each other was a mystery. The other ghosts only knew that their fights were slightly entertaining to watch.

* * *

Tommy had woken up a while ago, hot and stuffy in his little box. The potion had worn off a while ago, obvious by the way Tommy sweated. He stumbled along the lava edge, searching for a piglin. He wanted to get another potion. Swimming across the lava seemed to be the best option, although maybe now he could properly build across. 

As luck would happen, his eyes caught sight of a dark purple brick, leading up to a fortress in the sky. Tommy sighed, wiping his brow.

Okay, so he had found a fortress. Yay. 

He scanned around, noticing how the fortress led into a blue biome, bordering along the red one from before. The blue biome was good, he could get ender pearls in there and stuff. But still, no piglins.

Tommy wanted to get the bastion looted before entering the fortress. One, the bastion might have netherite scraps, used to make strong, unburnable netherite. Two, that was his original objective, and he intended to see it though. Three, well he didn't have a number three.

He continued walking along the edge, said edge slowly sloping upwards. It evened out, but Tommy reckoned a fall from his current height may result in a broken ankle, if you landed on solid ground and not the boiling magma below.

He noticed a broken down cobblestone shack. That must be player-made, unless endermen built it (very unlikely).

There was no door, only an opening where a door should be. It must have burnt up. Wood could only last so long in such a flammable environment, and considering the age of this little hut, the wood door surely burned.

Tommy kicked the cracked, golden sword away out of the doorway. It skittered along the floor, breaking into pieces against the wall. The room was small, with a crafting table, furnace, and chest being the only items in the room.

The furnace was empty. The chest had better results.

Tommy rummaged around, shifting through all the leather, netherrack, and red bricks. Whoever camped here must have done some trading, although there were no potions. What Tommy found, though, was much more valuable than a potion.

  
He held up the orange rod. It glowed faintly, old. It probably had to be dunked into lava (see: get a potion), but it was still a blaze rod.

Tommy grinned, slipping the rod into his inventory. Now he only needed… how many did Dream usually get? Seven? He should get six or seven more, probably.

He turned, about to go back to searching for a piglin, when suddenly he was thrown into what he would describe as a memory of someone long gone.

_The woman quickly dumped the netherrack from her inventory into the chest. She looked relatively burnt, part of her once white and blue sweater sleeve singed. The iron chestplate had a dark, sooty mark on the center. Her gold boots were cracked, threatening to break apart any second. There was a streak of ash along her cheek, under her green eye. Her chocolatey brown hair was tangled and greasy. Orange particles floated off of her, becoming more sparse as the potion of fire resistance weared off._

_She took out a glowing rod, warm to the touch. She tucked it into the chest, closing it with a sigh. One of eight more to go. Nobody told her gathering blaze rods was so dangerous._

_Something made a sound behind her, and she instinctively swung. She didn’t survive all those near silent wither skeletons off nothing, but she quickly realized her error._

_The zombie pigman squealed, poofing into dust. The woman stared at the gold sword and rotten flesh left on the ground. She had just signed her death warrant._

_She quickly sprinted outside, lest she be trapped in that little hut. She took off, running away from the horde that had appeared from seemingly nowhere. One misstep, one perfectly placed swing of a gold sword, and she slipped, falling into the boiling magma below-_

Tommy blinked, standing on the same cliff he assumed to be Stacy had fallen from. He glanced widely from where he was just standing to his current spot.

How did he get here?

Whatever. He still had a piglin to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta read i sleep 
> 
> i updated both my stories today *tired jazz hands*
> 
> ALSO! i was watching tapl earlier and i enjoy his streams so much like theyre so chill and entertaining. hes a really good streamer and youtuber (he also has an ace pride emote!! pog!!!)


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Tommy sighed, tossing the quartz to the side. So far the piglin had only given him useless building stuff, along with a lot of leather. He pulled out one of his last gold bars, handing it over with boredom. All he wants is a potion. Is that too much to ask?

The piglin, stuck in a small pit because Tommy was _not_ gonna go chase down another one, examined the gold, like they had before. With a grunt, they tossed over four dark turquoise orbs. 

Tommy fumbled, almost dropping the pearls. Once he regained control, he softly groaned, looking at the four ender pearls he was just given. 

Of course he would get a rare and important trade before getting a potion! He angrily snorted, shoving the pearls into his inventory. He should be happy about getting pearls, but right now he wanted a potion.

Tommy tossed his last bar into the pit. After gazing at the bar, the piglin took a glass bottle with fiery liquid inside and handed it up. Tommy grinned, letting the piglin free before running back towards the bastion.

Finally. It had only taken him half a stack of gold.

Tommy stood, breathless and panting from running in these hot conditions. The cobble shack was behind him. Tommy gently shook the mixture, watching the liquid slosh around inside. It should last for approximately three minutes, which should be enough time for him to swim across. Or would it? 

Building would be faster, despite the risk of being knocked in. Tommy hummed. Should he save the potion now? He went through all this hard work, and he might not even use it. He angrily exhaled through his nose, shifting the potion from his right hand to his left.

Tommy decided to build one block above the lava, holding the blocks in his right hand and the potion in his left. That way, he could easily drink it if he needed to.

Tommy’s usual cocky nature was gone now as he carefully built across. He could do a tactic called “speed bridging” fairly well, but why would he needlessly risk his life just to build fast?

He used all his cobblestone, changing to netherrack. He stood, stretching his back out and wiping the sweat from his eyes. He was only about halfway to the bastion, and he would probably need more blocks. He should have taken some netherrack from Stacy’s chest. 

He went back to constructing his bridge. Tommy was tense, listing for any cries of ghasts, or, well, anything hostile. The bubbling of lava and his own panting were the only sounds he could hear. 

Tommy continued building, stress making his hands tremble. He glanced up. The bastion was surprisingly close, as if the haze of heat coming from the lava had made it seem farther.

With a flick of his wrist, netherrack blocks connected his little bridge to the bastion.

  
Alright. This… he should be fine.

Tommy broke his way inside. Many holes littered the floor, the walls crumbling down into lava. Piglins were scattered around, some of them with axes and black clothing. Those were the heavy hitting ones, that was right.

Tommy could _not_ touch any of the chests, at least until he got the main loot. No opening chests, no collecting gold blocks. 

Tommy carefully mined a broken wall out of his way, stopping to look at the bastion as a whole. He was currently on the bottom floor, and he could see a double chest near the middle. Looking up, he could see all the other floors. He got slightly dizzy, because geez that was high and just a lot.

There were no more of those hoglins, which was good. A few magma cubes floated around in the lava, so he might need to watch out for those. He remembered an old hardcore world he had, where he had been quickly overwhelmed by the huge cubes. Yep, be careful of those.

Pigilgs lined the walls, most just sitting or not paying attention. It was all a facade. Tommy knew as soon as he opened the chest those pigs would be on him.

None of them seemed to have a crossbow. Tommy made a plan.

If he opens the chest, all the piglins will immediately attack. Alright, so he goes and opens the chest. He should make an opening in the back wall, run through the floor to his bridge, and close it up behind him. Maybe if they manage to get on the bridge, he could destroy it behind him, or make a wall.

Okay, that seemed good. It should work, right? 

Of course, like every other plan Tommy makes, it fails horribly.

It started off good. Tommy patched up some holes around the chest, killing a magma cube when it came to close. He made an opening on the other wall, clearing out a clear path for him to run back around.

He was standing back in the middle, facing the double chest. All he had to do was open it, empty everything from it, and run.

Tommy took a deep breath, opening his inventory. Here goes nothing.

He grabbed everything in the chest, not giving himself any time to look it over. He heard the angry yells of piglins.

So that’s where it went wrong.

The first problem was that Tommy hadn’t equipped his sword beforehand. The second was that he failed to take into consideration the piglins on the ground floor.

As he ran to the opening he made, he had to skitter to a stop. A piglin dressed in black and gold, weiling a gold axe stopped him before he could run though. Tommy remembered Phil calling them brutes.

Tommy whirled around. His other entrance also had piglins angrily storming through.

Tommy equipped the first thing he had, which was the left over netherrack blocks. The brute angrily snorted, raising it’s axe.

Tommy threw up two blocks directly in its face. He almost laughed, but there were still more behind him. He built upwards, which wasn’t that bad of an idea.

A piglin on the wall winds its crossbow. Tommy doesn’t notice, not until he hears the sound of a shot being fired. He doges, throwing up his shield. The arrow lands on the wood with a _thunk_.

Tommy had put his foot back when he raised his shield. It was what he was taught, but of course there was nothing behind him to steady his foot. Tommy was forced to use his momentum to turn and jump, unless he wanted to fall into the lava or the horde beneath him.

Tommy quickly placed blocks beneath him as he jumped across the wall. His hands shake hard, but he hastily spams blocks beneath his feet. There was a hole in the wall that was connected to the second floor, and Tommy threw himself through, crashing to the ground.

He wasn’t safe. He pushed himself to his feet, running again. He stops, looting a random chest. He grabbed everything that looked important, which was all of it, before ducking a golden sword swing and running.

He put up a quick wall, mining though the blackstone. Lava boils below him, but even that seems more inviting than the inside of the bastion. He puts a netherrack ledge out, turning back to block up the hole he just made.

Tommy doesn’t stop to breathe, even as he makes a path that wraps around the bastion. He doesn’t stop as he jumps down onto his original bridge, making a small wall behind him.

He doesn’t stop until he’s run far, far away. He stayed close to the fortress wall, but all he wanted was to get as far from that death trap as possible. His breath hitched every time he sprints past a piglin, but none attack.

Tommy stumbled. He made a small hole in the fortress wall, blocking it up behind him. He puts his back on the wall, sliding down to the floor.

He made his small hole bigger, immediately taking his shield off and tossing it aside. The broken shaft of the arrow sticks out from it. Tommy struggles out of all his armor, unclasping the straps holding the leggings and chestplate to his body. He chucked the golden helmet to the side, kicking off the reinforced iron boots. 

He’s still panting. The removal of the stuffy armor does little to cool him off. He hates the nether, he hates it so much.

Tommy had managed to escape the bastion unscathed, and he had gotten loot, but he felt like an idiot. He had just pointlessly risked his life _again,_ and only his skills being able to place blocks quickly had saved him.

It wasn’t worth it, not at all.

Tommy trembled despite the heat, pulling his legs up to his chest. He just wanted to go home.

He eventually stopped trembling, being hit with a wave of exhaustion. He put his head on his arms, falling asleep in that cramped box.

The ghost with wolf ears was focusing intensely, eyes screwed shut. Her hands were placed on the kid’s head. After a few tense seconds, she relaxed, falling back. Stacy was there, gently grabbing her. Aphmau smiled.

_“I think I managed to link his dream to his world. It’s really hard, since he’s not only, in the nether, but because we left the village.”_

Dan nodded, sitting halfway inside a wall. He didn’t seem to notice, or care for that matter. _“I’m sure you did it, Aphmau. Even if you didn’t, you did the best you could.”_

Pat sighed from where he was, over by the discarded armor. _“I wish he would stop throwing himself in these situations. He’s gonna get himself killed.”_

Sky grinned. _“I think he’s great. He’s gotta be risky, how else will he get out?”_

The Captain almost immediately said something that contradicted what Sky said, and in seconds they were at each other’s throats. Stacy politely shoved them outside, telling them to come back one they were done fighting. The other ghosts just sighed. Not much they could do about the odd rivalry those two had. 

* * *

_Tommy hadn’t dreamed in a while. Ever since he left the village, he slept without any memory of dreams. And although this was still a dream about home, this was very… different._

_He was standing on a strip of land. He recognized it as the land behind the wall, if you exit the entrance and walk around to the left. The grassy ground was replaced with stone, with wooden chairs scattered around._

_The chairs were all facing a wooden podium. Red, decorative streams limply waved in the cold breeze. The sky was cloudy and grey, the threat of winter evident in the air. There was nobody sitting in the chairs, but there were two people standing on the wooden platform._

_Tommy blinked, and he was suddenly on the podium. There were actually three figures. One of them had been sitting against the wall, eyes blank. Their hair was long, brown and tied into a small ponytail. Their green shirt was wrinkled with specks of dirt. Their pants were muddied, holes revealing their scratched up knee-caps._

_  
_ _It took Tommy an uncomfortable amount of time to realize he was looking at his best friend, Tubbo._

_One of the other people on the stand said something, startling Tommy. He forced his gaze away from the husk of his friend. The one who spoke was a formal man, hair styled to perfection, half-beard neatly combed. His suit was neatly pressed, not a wrinkle in sight. Ram horns protruded from his head, spiraling down and wrapping around his ears. The man was JShlatt, Tommy’s idol. Wasn’t he banned from the land? The only ways he could be here was if Dream revoked the ban, or if Dream had disappeared. Very odd._

_The last person was Wilbur. The man, similar to Tubbo, looked worse for wear. He still had some passion in his eyes, but Tommy could tell from his posture that he wasn’t fairing the best. He had a black beanie pulled on over his head, similar to the one he used to wear. Instead of wearing the uniform, he had adorned a long, brown trench coat._

_“Look, I can tell you aren’t fit to lead right now. You’re dealing with the death of somebody close.”_

_Wilbur said nothing, gaze pointed slightly downwards. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his coat. Tommy noticed the slight trembling of his shoulders._

_“I’m just trying to work out the best for this county, and more importantly, you. If you let me lead, at least until you recover, then it’ll prosper, while you can rest.”_

_The ram hybrid placed a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “Remember all the time we spent together? Yes, this land is great, but your mental health should come first. You need to go meet Phil and Techno, tell them what happened before they search for Dream.”_

_Wilbur finally caved, nodding with tears leaking from his eyes. Shlatt grabbed Wilbur, pulling him into a close hug. Tubbo got up, uninterested, and wandered away. Tommy blinked, and he was snapped away._

_Two men were riding separate horses. The horses trotted, going at an easy pace._

_“How close are we?” The one in the lead asked, long pink hair wrapped into a braid. He flicked a stray strand behind his pointed ear, several earrings adorning said ear._

_Phil hummed, looking at a classic paper map. His wings were folded up behind him, grey, almost black feathers shimmering in the evening sunlight. Technoblade glanced behind to Phil with a sigh._

_“You can just use a communicator, you know. Those have better developed stuff, like coordinates,” Techno remarked._

_Phil chucked, glancing up as he folded the map away. “Sure, but I prefer the traditional map. We have to follow this path, then we’ll arrive at the DreamSMP.”_

_Techno muttered something along the lines of “old man,” but returned to face the path forward nonetheless._

_Tommy was yanked to another place._

_It was hot, but that was to be expected in the nether. He saw a figure sitting on the edge of the overhang. The green hoodie had soot marks, with a medium sized burn hole on the back revealing a black shirt underneath. His hood was down, revealing dirty blonde hair that looked almost orange in the light of the lava._

_The man exhaled. He turned, standing, and Tommy saw the man's face._

_  
_ _At first, he didn’t recognize the person in front of him. He had green eyes that looked tired. Freckles were dotted on his face, so many that they looked like the stars. A jagged scar ran along his face, beginning under his right eye, crossing over his nose, and ending on the opposite cheek. Other small scars littered his face, but that one was the most noticeable. He was dressed in familiar clothes, but this couldn’t be Dream, could it? Where was his mask?_

_Dream (Tommy supposed it was Dream, anyways) look around, rubbing his eyes with a sigh. His gaze fell on Tommy, and instead of his eyes passing by like most people’s had, Dream seemed to latch onto him, staring straight at him._

_The man’s eyes widened in surprise, raising one of his hands uncertainly. “Tommy?”_

_Tommy stiffened with shock. Dream could see him? At that moment, Tommy forgot all the pain, all the suffering that Dream had caused. He forgot it all, and in that instant Tommy was facing his old, familiar friend. He found he could move, he could speak._

_“Dream, I-” Tommy was cut off as his vision whirled again, and with a gasp he was awake._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG HAIR TUBBO LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE
> 
> schlatt will be a good guy in this because i cant write villain characters
> 
> hope you all have a good day/night! <3


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Tommy was beginning to think like a broken record, but _holy hell the nether sucks._

He was painfully reminded just how much he hated the nether when he woke up in a cramped, hot box, with sweat dripping uncomfortably down his back. He felt only the littlest bit more refreshed, despite sleeping for who knows how long.

Before trekking back into the humid, red, barren landscape, Tommy decided to take inventory of what he earned from the bastion. He dumped out all new items from his inventory.

The first thing that caught his attention was a shining crossbow, in surprisingly good condition. Tommy picked it up, running his fingers along the side as he tried to determine what enchantments it had. _Quick Charge Three, Piercing Three._ Tommy whistled under his breath. He didn’t know if that was good or not, but it was definitely better than the average crossbow. He had gotten a large bundle of spectral arrows as well, so he would probably never have to worry about running low. 

Under the crossbow were some dark brown scraps of material. It took Tommy embarrassingly long to realize it was netherite. He had gotten netherite.

There were only four scraps, and if Tommy remembered right that transferred into one bar. So he had one bar of netherite. He felt giddy, like he did the first time he ever found diamonds.

The last item, aside from bones, a few gold nuggets, and a single magma cream, was a dark, maroon circle with a ring of gold in the center. He held it with trembling hands, the word _PIGSTEP_ etched into the music disk. Tommy remembered the time he had spent prior, on a trip so long ago he thought it was before L’manburg was even created.

Tommy had spent so many painful days searching for a bastion, just so he could find the disk he was holding. It took him long enough to find an unlooted bastion, and even then it was a serious disappointment, with hardly anything noteworthy. He had gone back home after that.

But now, here he was. Dead, in a completely different dimension, sitting in a dark, hot box, holding something more valuable to him than the netherite scraps.

In the disk went, right next to the pristine, white sweater and crumbling journal written by a man who was unlucky. It would stay there, unmoving until he got home ~~(if he got home)~~.

That was all the loot he had gotten. With a small sigh, Tommy began to strap back on all his hot, stuffy armor. He pulled the broken arrow from his shield, tossing it away as he tightened the strap on the shield on his arm.

He didn’t spend long thinking about how Dream could see him in his dream, because then his head would start hurting. It just didn’t make sense, but Tommy couldn’t fall back asleep, so he decided to continue onwards.

The air outside of his box was only the slightest bit less stuffy. There was no wind, and it was really just moving from one hot place to another. Tommy scowled, looking up the wall of the nether fortress. The sooner he got this out of the way, the sooner he could get out of the hell that was the nether.

He carefully made a staircase up the side of the wall. He kept having to brush his overgrown hair from his eyes, but he couldn’t cut it, unless he wanted to try sawing it off with his sword. Finally, it flopped into his eyes one last time, and with a growl he ripped a part of his sleeve, tying his hair back with a messy knot. At least it was out of his eyes now.

Tommy knew from the multiple times it got into his eyes that his hair wasn’t red anymore. Of course, the hair dye probably wasn’t built to survive being dunked into lava. Part of him mourned the loss, because it was one of the only physical marks left from the village.

Tommy reached the top, pulling himself over the pathetic attempt of guardrails. There were no wither skeletons, or any mobs for that matter. In one direction, the bridge crumbled into a rough edge. In the other, the path headed into the blue mushroom forest, partly underground.

Tommy walked along the dark bricks, sword out and shield raised warily. His nervous eyes flickered around in caution, just _waiting_ for a charcoal covered skeleton with a stone sword to jump at him.

He passed some zombified pigmen, who hardly gave him a glance. He continued forward.

The path split off at some parts, but he continued straight. The netherrack completely covered his head, creating a tunnel. It came to a crossroad, and on a random feeling he went left. 

That was the right way to go, apparently, as he stumbled across a blaze spawner. A few were already aimlessly floating, but with the ceiling and walls around they couldn’t fly off.

Tommy had slammed his back against the wall as nine sets of fireballs were fired at him. He groaned, running a hand down his face.

He really had to do this, didn’t he?

* * *

A lot of curses, a fire resistance potion, several ash covered pieces of iron, and one charred wooden shield later, Tommy blocked off the entrance to the spawner. He uncurled his fist, revealing six glowing rods. Including the dull one he had gotten from Stacy, he had seven. That was enough, right?

The orange swirls floating off him slowly became less and less, until there were none at all. Tommy hadn’t wanted to use his potion, but being caught on fire and coming _way_ too close to dying pushed him to drink the potion. It was a good investment, since he could enjoy some blissful, cool minutes while fire twirling across his skin.

Now, he just needed some more ender pearls, didn’t he? He had four already. How many more should he get? Tommy thought for a moment. Didn’t he need ten? Ten sounded about right.

Tommy made a move to go back the way he came, to go explore the mushroom forest, but he stumbled. He managed to catch himself before his head hit the ground, but that wasn’t very present on his mind. A sudden rush of exhaustion hit him, a wave that he had apparently been holding back crashing down.

Tommy tiredly burrowed into the closest wall, like he had before. He sat on the ground in his new hole, tossing most of his armor aside like before. He let his head thud back against the soft, netherrack wall with a sigh, too drained to take off his boots that covered his shins.

Sleeping in the nether was like a hopeless attempt to actually get some rest. It left you tired, energy spent on sweating from the heat. Still, Tommy couldn’t fight his body’s exhaustion, and despite knowing he would be just as fatigued ~~in the morning~~ once he woke up, he closed his eyes.

* * *

_Tommy spent a few moments just enjoying the coolness in his dream. He didn’t feel the humidity, the heat pressing down on his shoulders. Well, he didn’t feel that much in his dreams, but it was a relief nonetheless._

_He felt himself being tugged out, a pull towards another place. With a small frown, Tommy let himself be dragged by this force._

_He opened his eyes._

_Dull netherrack met his gaze. The lava pouring from a hole in the wall seemed muted in color, a once vibrant orange washed out to an almost grey._

_It took him a moment to see the man with his faded, green hoodie, with his blue jeans that were muffled in color. Green eyes that didn’t quite shine stared at him, shocked._

_Tommy smiled a little, raising a hand in greeting. “Hey, Dream.”_

_Dream took a small step forward, reaching forward as if to touch Tommy._ “Tommy? A-Are you actually…”

_Tommy knew he should be mad at Dream. Rage should be consuming him, making his hands tremble and his voice shake. Only a small drop of the anger he felt- no, he_ knew _he should feel was present. None of his emotions seemed to be as loud, as overfilling and present here, in a dreamscape only he could travel. Dang, is this how Technoblade feels like? Tommy didn’t like it all. He was used to feeling so strongly that the smallest actions could send emotions flaring up._

_Tommy shrugged, remembering Dream was waiting for an answer. “Yeah. I’m here, until I wake up.”_

_Dream shook his head._ “But… no, but you’re dead.”

_Tommy laughed at that, some of the tension leaving Dream’s figure. “No duh, Sherlock. How long did it take you to figure out that?”_

_Dream didn’t respond, trying to connect the dots in his head. Tommy rolled his eyes with a small huff, a streak of faint annoyance flashing through him. “Seriously Dream, did you really think a stupid arrow fired from a stupid man would kill me off for good?”_

_Dream suddenly came to a conclusion, face becoming hard._ “That’s it. I’ve gone insane.”

_Tommy laughed again. Dream rubbed his eyes._ “I’ve been without human contact for too long. I’m going insane.”

_Tommy stopped at that, tilting his head with some curiosity, before shrugging again. “I don’t really want to try and decipher what that means, big man. But seriously, I’ve got a big problem.”_

_Dream still looked very unsure, but nodded a little. Tommy continued._

_“So it turns out there’s this afterlife, right? And I’ve basically got to beat the dragon without dying again, and then I can come back. The only thing is that, like, nobody has managed to beat it. Trust me, I’ve like… read letters, and stuff, about people right before they… died. Again.”_

_Tommy stopped for a moment, intending to take a breath before he realized he didn’t need one. He let out a small “oh,” before continuing._

_“I’m in the nether right now. I’ve gotten… uh… like six or seven blaze rods. Is that enough?”_

_Dream took a moment to respond._ “So… you’re actually real?”

_Tommy sighed, feeling muffled annoyance again. “Yes, for the last time, Dream. I am still real. For now, at least. As soon as I wake up I might just fall into lava or something stupid, but right now I’m sleeping in a stuffy box. So is seven blaze rods enough?”_

_Dream narrowed his eyes. Tommy crossed his arms. “What’s your deal? Just answer the question!”_

_Dream nodded._ “Yeah, seven is enough. You should get twelve ender pearls, since there are twelve holes in the frame of the portal, and there’s no guarantee there-”

_Tommy rolled his eyes with a loud groan. “I didn’t come here for a lesson, Dream.” He stopped, thinking. “So I need twelve, not ten? That’s good to know, I guess.”_

_Dream began pacing, avoiding the lava._ “Okay, either I’ve really fallen off the deep end, or you’re actually real.”

_“I’m real. You’re the first person to see me, though.”_

_Dream stopped for a moment, before picking up his nervous pacing again._ “So you’re probably real. How-Why am I the only one who can see you?”

_Tommy was about to shrug, give some mundane answer like “I dunno,” when the exact reason came to mind. Without thinking, he mindlessly said, “It’s because you were the cause of two people’s permanent deaths.”_

_He blinked. “How do I know that?”_

_Dream stopped, staring at Tommy with a face that showed too much feeling, too much wonder and confusion, and maybe a hint of guilt. He obviously wasn’t used to covering his expressions, wasn’t used to covering the emotion with an emotionless wall._

“Two people? I-I know I… I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t mean-”

_Tommy waved his hand dismissively, cutting him off before he could start on a long, unneeded apology. “It’s fine. I don’t really blame you, not right now. Maybe when I see you in real person I’ll punch you, but right now I’m not mad.”_

_Dream was confused again, but more of a cautious confusion._ “What? Did you mature, Tommy?”

_Tommy laughed. Geez, he had laughed more in a few minutes than he had his entire time spent in the nether, and maybe even before that. “No, no. Just don’t really… feel here, y’know? In the dream.”_

_Dream nodded a bit, like he didn’t fully understand what Tommy meant but didn’t want to ask further._ “What was that you said earlier, about me… k-killing two people?”

_Tommy nodded sagely. “You are a horrible person. But really, do you remember this young guy with pink hair? About fifteen?”_

_Dream looked shocked, reaching up to touch the large scar on his face with soft, trembling fingers._ “Y-You mean… Blade?”

_Tommy felt himself disappearing, probably waking up. He raised his hands, seeing the already transparent fingers fade into nothing. He glanced up at Dream, who looked worried, still confused, and maybe a bit horrified. “Guess I’m waking up.”_

_Dream shook himself out of his trance, grabbing his arm. Dream’s hand touched nothing, going straight through Tommy’s arm. Tommy stared at his arm, feeling a faint tingling from the area where Dream’s hand was inside. “Weird,” he muttered._

“I-I don’t- Tommy, please don’t-” _Dream looked very upset now, voice overflowing with a concern Tommy had never heard before._

_“It’s fine. Give me like… eight hours or so, and I’ll probably pass out again.”_

“Pass out?! Tommy, what have you been-”

_Dream’s voice became wavering, until Tommy didn’t hear him anymore. He felt himself groan, felt just a hint of that heat he had gotten so used to._

_Tommy was able to send Dream a confident smirk before he felt himself fade out of his dream, back into reality._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello gamers long time no see. me perdonas? smile?
> 
> im sorry for disappearing for so long but i rewatched gravity falls and now im writing a crossover thing. you can read it if you want to and im putting a lot more focus into that right now.
> 
> anyways uhhhhh yep. updates will be sparse now since im hyperfixating on gravity falls at the moment. BUT I WILL FINISH THIS WORK EVEN IF I DROP OUT OF THIS FANDOM ENTIRELY! 
> 
> have a good day/night! <3


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **small vomit warning awooga awooga. ill leave a small warning before and after. its very minor but yknow yknow yeah?**

Sky messed with his pendant as the ghosts watched Tommy sleep. The boy’s eyebrows were knitted together. Aphmau must have been able to link his dream to the real world.

Captain Sparklez had his eyes closed in focus, trying to stabilize the connection or whatever. Sky hadn’t been paying attention. He narrowed his eyes at the king. Stupid man with the stupid crown and fancy robes. Sky hated his guts.

Captain mumbled something under his breath, probably telling Tommy some useless information that would only confuse everyone. Sky stood, stepping through the netherrack wall. It was getting stuffy in that room. That was his excuse, even though Sky couldn’t really _feel_ how stuffy it was. Since, you know, he’s a ghost.

He sat outside, willing himself not to phase through the blocks against his back. He crossed his arms, gazing down the hall to the walled-off blaze spawner. The kid had a few close calls with those things, but Sky guessed he was fortunate enough to have a potion on him.

Somebody joined him outside of the room. Sky didn’t have to glance over to know who it was.

Aphmau quietly sat with him, not speaking. Sky was thankful because he didn’t really feel like talking. They just sat together, enjoying each other’s company.

The kid suddenly broke through the walls, not bothering to hide the exhaustion apparent on his face. Sky pushed himself to his feet with a small sigh, offering a hand to Aphmau. The short girl accepted, standing with him.

The two ghosts watched Tommy pause to rest against the wall, wiping sweat from his face. His hair was singed and overgrown, clothes not much better. Sky gave Aphmau a small look, before silently trailing after the half-asleep kid.

* * *

Tommy broke out from the stuffy box, into the ‘fresh’ air. He pushed some stray strands of hair from his face, looking around. He just had to get… how many had Dream said? Twelve? He already had four, so he only needed… eight more?

He started his walk down the hall to the blue biome, stopping to rest against a wall. He wiped the sweat from his face with a tired huff. His bones felt like lead, but sleeping didn’t do anything, so he continued on.

The fortress came to a crumbling stop, so Tommy built an unsteady path to the ground. The ground was spongy, making unnatural sounds as he picked his way through the overgrown mushroom trees. 

Endermen weren’t hard to find. Tommy crafted a boat from the small amount of natural wood he had left, and tricking endermen to get caught in the boat was surprisingly easy. From there, he only had to stab them a few times until they died.

He had about seven or eight pearls when he made his mistake.

Tommy stared at the eyes of an enderman, daring it to come attack him. It was a challenge to a deadly dance, and the enderman eagerly accepted.

With a screeching howl, it charged forward. Tommy stood behind the boat, confidence making him smirk.

Right before reaching the boat, the enderman disappeared with a shower of purple particles. Tommy became a bit more nervous at this, shifting his stance and getting his shield ready.

With a horrible wail, the enderman reappeared behind Tommy. The boy got knocked forward, falling into the boat. He lay there, dazed and confused before the enderman growled again.

  
Tommy scrambled to get out because this had _not_ gone to plan, but his shield got caught on the oar of the boat. He yanked his arm, and with a _rip,_ the leather straps on the shield tore off. Tommy, now shieldless and terrified of the dark thing screaming at him, got to his feet and ran.

His breath came out in rapid huffs, not being able to get enough of the humid air. His body was sore, complaining as he ran, but what else was he gonna do? He didn’t have his shield, and the boat had betrayed him. 

Tommy stumbled, foot caught on a stay vine that snaked across the floor. He yelped, trying to pull it free with no avail. He panicked, slashed at the vine. He felt a small give as he was released, and briefly wondered why he hadn’t just done that in the first place.

Tommy got to his feet, but the small amount of time it took him to free himself from the blue rope let the enderman catch up. It’s blazing purple eyes landed on Tommy, mouth opened in an unholy yowl.

Tommy desperately stabbed the enderman. It disappeared for a brief second as it was lit on fire, before coming back to claw at Tommy. 

He stumbled backwards, managing to dodge the attack. His back foot pushed against the uneven ground, small chunks of netherrack crumbling under his weight. Tommy glanced behind him, discovering that he had been backed into a cliff edge. Lava bubbled under him, heat making the air waver. He could feel how hot it was even from his vantage point, and he didn’t have any more potions.

He sent a wild look at the enderman, before diving to the side as it swiped again. The ground cushioned his fall slightly, but he still let out a small huff as the air escaped from his lungs. He scrambled to his feet as the enderman whirled around, slashing at his exposed arm. Tommy yelped in pain, blood started to flow down his arm. It wasn’t his fighting arm, thankfully.

Tommy scowled at the enderman, anger and adrenaline keeping the pain at bay.

The enderman didn’t stand a chance.

Tommy stood over the body as it crumbled, panting and sweating. The only thing left behind was a shimmering eye, the spoil of the fight. He scooped it up, tucking it into his inventory with the other pearls he had. He ripped a piece of his shirt off, using it to bandage the scratches on his arm. They weren't that bad, and would probably scab overnight. Calculating eyes scanned the thick mushroom forest, trying to spot anymore tall figures.

Only three more to go.

* * *

The enderman died with a cry, poofing into a mixture of dust and smoke. Tommy emerged from under the small umbrella-like structure he had built. A tired smile came to his face when he saw a pearl left on the ground. It had taken him killing too many enderman to count to finally get the last pearl, but he had all twelve now.

Tommy looked over all the supplies in his inventory, double-checking to make sure he had everything. His tired smile grew. He could leave the nether! He didn’t need anything more from this hell-hole!

His smile quickly fell when he realized he didn’t know where his portal was.

Uh oh.

It’s fine, Tommy told himself. He chose a random direction and started walking. He should find it eventually!

There was no way he could be trapped in the nether forever!

...Right?

Tommy picked his way across the rough terrain, avoiding fights with anything that glared at him. He once saw the dark square-shape of a bastion on the horizon, and quickly turned another direction.

After what felt like hours of trekking, Tommy stopped. He wiped his forehead, glancing around with a sour expression. He had left the blue biome entirely, and he could see the blue hues of a bone biome in the distance.

Okay. He was lost.

Tommy groaned, sitting on a outcropping of netherrack. He put his head into his sweaty hands, frustration biting at the back of his throat. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, considering giving up. He could wander the nether forever and never find an exit. A fleeting thought of obsidian left behind in chests in nether fortresses crossed his mind, but that thought was discarded. It would take way too long and he would most likely die before getting enough to build a portal.

He raised his head, squinting angrily at the soul sand biome in the distance. He swore he saw a flash of purple, and for a second felt a sliver of hope.

Staggering to his tired feet, Tommy made his way across the jagged landscape to the small glimmer he saw. Rationally, he knew he was probably hallucinating, and the light was just a figment of his imagination. Still, he continued forward, searching for his last hope.

Tommy climbed over a hill, his eyes widening. A perfectly normal nether portal sat there, untouched. The only sign of age was the small crack in one part of the obsidian, but Tommy was too overjoyed to notice.

He sagged against the frame, purple swirling in his vision before his stomach twisted and he was gone.

* * *

Teleporting from dimension to dimension was always nauseating, although Tommy could usually keep the nausea under control.

Maybe it was his tired, fatigued state. Maybe it was the entirely different world of the afterlife he was in.

**bro throwing up warning**

Tommy stumbled from the portal, heaving up what little food he had eaten. He wasn’t fully conscious, purple swirls dancing in his vision.

**ok its done**

The first thing he noticed was the disgusting taste in his mouth. The second thing he noticed was how cold he was. The third thing was that the portal was stationed in the middle of a decently large lava pool.

Tommy shuffled a bit from the edge, not before spitting into the molten rock in an attempt to get the taste from his mouth. There was a small bridge connecting the stranded portal to a rocky shore.

Patches of lava seemed uneven, leading Tommy to believe the portal was built without the use of a pickaxe. A discarded, rusting iron bucket helped him solidify this theory.

He made his way carefully across the cobblestone bridge, making sure not to slip. He kept his back to the wall, skirting the lava pool. 

He stopped for a moment, staring at the lava as it twirled and changed color. Something white flashed in his eyes.

_A man with floppy, light brown hair, sunglasses, black and grey clothing, and a necklace with a purple pendant encased in gold stood in the middle of an underground lava lake. He precariously poured water on lava. The portal he was creating was crude, uneven with inexperience, but the man seemed determined to finish._

_“Can’t find any diamonds, fine! I’ll just do it the fancy way,” he muttered angrily under his breath, scooping up another bucket full of bubbling magma._

_He tossed up the lava, quickly hardening it with water. He rubbed steel against flint, the smallest spark creating a spiraling purple portal. The man let out a triumphant sigh, taking a step backwards._

_He quickly found out there was nothing for his back foot to step on._

_His piercing shrieks of agony as he burned alive went unheard, the few chunks of gold on the wall the only spectators._

_The cold, unforgiving cave returned to the normal emptiness, the only proof the man was there being the things he left behind._

Tommy blinked. The cave was the exact same, and he could even see the few pieces of gold on the wall. He stumbled away from the lava edge with a small gasp, realizing it was the same thing that burned a man alive.

Tommy kept as close to the wall as he could, pressing his back to the stone. He finally turned the corner, shivering as a cool draft wafted from the upper tunnel. Goosebumps dotted his exposed arms, and he considered taking out the Wilbur Sweater.

This thought, and the small realization he had seen three people’s deaths, fleeted from his mind as soon as he saw a light grey bed, pushed up roughly against the wall. Tommy practically fell forward, landing on the rough covers. He closed his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately. 

Sky hovered near Aphmau, watching her link the kid’s dream… Sky didn’t know, she just did whatever she did. He looked around his former hideout with narrowed eyes. _“Man, this got dusty.”_

Dan shrugged. _“That’s what happens when it’s been untouched for… who knows how long?”_

Sky sighed, forcing his eyes away from the lava pool where he died. _“Yep.”_

* * *

_Tommy was standing on a grassy hill. The sun was shining, although it did little to soften the cold. Well, Tommy couldn’t feel the cold, but judging by the thick jacket Tubbo was wearing it must be cold._

_Tubbo was sitting in the grass, legs pulled up to his chest. He was staring out across shipping docks, water with partly frozen ice crashing against wooden support beams._

_Tommy lowered himself to the ground, peering at Tubbo’s face. The boy's face was slightly red from the cold, but his eyes looked empty, dull. It made Tommy worry._

_And then, for a split second, Tubbo’s distant gaze seemed to focus on him. Tommy quickly moved to crouch in front of Tubbo. “Tubbo! Hey man, can you see me?”_

_Tubbo’s face was unregistering, eyes looking directly at Tommy. After a few more seconds, Tubbo looked away. He pulled himself more into his arms and legs._

_“T-Tubbo?” Tommy asked, voice soft._

_Another person came up the hill behind Tubbo. He had tanner skin, a blue beanie with LAFD printed in bold, white letters covering his hair despite the few black strands that escaped._

_He plopped down next to Tubbo. “Ay man, you doing good?”_

_Tubbo took a moment to respond. “Quackity, how do you know if you’re hallucinating?”_

_Tommy’s breath caught in his throat. He stood, thoughts racing. Before he could say anything, or do anything, he disappeared from Tubbo with a small_ pop.

_Tommy appeared in front of Dream. He looked like he had been sleeping, although he was awake now. Tommy looked around with a scoff. He didn’t need to be reminded of how horrible sleeping in the nether was._

_Dream scrutinized his appearance, eyes narrowed slightly._ “Nice ponytail, Tommy.”

_Tommy scowled, missing the logs of anger to properly fuel his rage. “Why hello to you too, jerk! I don’t exactly have scissors on me, and I don’t fancy cutting off my own head accidentally with a sword!”_

_Dream raised his hands submissively, a small chuckle escaping his lips._ “Alright, I’m sorry.” 

_The man went back to studying Tommy._ “Is that red dye in your hair? Why is it… so uneven?”

_Tommy touched his hair, a frown evident on his face. “Well, it_ was _red, but then I got dunked into lava without fully drinking a potion. Glad to see some of it survived, I suppose.”_

_Dream smiled, a soft thing that looked unnatural for a man like him._ “It looks good on you.”

_“Uhm, thanks, I suppose.”_

_Dream pointed to his arm, messily tied with a red piece of his shirt._ "What happened there?"

_Tommy glanced at the injury. "Enderman," he grunted._

_Dream nodded._ "Ah."

_Tommy moved to sit next to Dream, watching a piglin stumble and fall into lava. He winced a little, remembering the man who fell into lava. His name was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t quite remember._

_“What are you doing in the nether anyways?” Tommy asked, breaking the silence._

_Dream turned his head, studying Tommy with startling green eyes._ “It’s… it’s a long story.”

_Tommy raised an unapproved eyebrow, gestured a little at himself. Dream snickered a little, turning to look back over the red terrain._ “I… how do I even start?”

_“Well, uh, maybe tell me another time, yeah?”_

_Dream’s head snapped back, just in time to see Tommy fade away. The man sighed, picking up his cracked mask._

"Yeah. Next time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i reinstalled grammarly for two (2) days before i got fed up with it. i no longer have grammarly. that is the end of my story.


	21. Dream’s Interlude (Chapter Twenty)

Dream, in all honesty, didn’t understand the things he sometimes did.

For instance, the entire war regarding L’manburg.

Perhaps it was something to do with his pride. Perhaps he had taken one look at the group of rebels and decided to tear them apart.

Maybe it had just been in the spur of the moment, his judgement clouded with success and amusement.

Whatever it was, Dream went to war. He’s had short skirmishes with other people, although almost all of them survived (except for one, but he would rather not think about him). This was his first legitimate war, and he had a blast.

Explosions created beautiful light shows. Arrows fell from the sky like shooting stars. Huge cobblestone walls surrounded a small group of people that dared called themselves a nation.

Dream could still remember the amusement he felt, seeing them all dressed up in fancy, custom made outfits. They had taken it seriously, while he debated about what deadly weapon would make him look the most cool.

He even pulled a common trope. He sought out the weakest link in their chain, and it only took a mention of being king for Eret to agree.

A small, underground room was created in a hillside. Dream waited, deadly patient. Eret’s velvety voice flowed through the room, deep and deceiving.

It wasn’t even Eret who pressed the button. The loud boy, too much enthusiasm and determination for his own worth, pressed down without any second thoughts.

It was a massacre.

The walls slid open, Dream and his companions, his brothers, jumping out. The arsonist stabbed the bee-lover through the back. The man with an impressive amount of land and a good building ability slashed a wound through the fox, the first born in the nation. 

The president, sharp words and silver tongue but no fighting skills, met the eyes of the traitor. He said something, before the colorblind archer cut off his head.

Dream scanned the room. There should be one more, shouldn’t there?

He watched with slightly narrowed eyes as the blonde ran, scrambling down the hallway they all came. Instead of giving chase, he let the kid go. His escaping would make this war drag on longer, giving Dream more time to… _play._

Dream had taken to gloating in the chat with everyone else as they laughed. None of them had noticed the death message of the escapee, too caught up in their victory.

The group had continued fighting, the blonde their only lifeline. Dream got the chance to blow up their whole land, underground explosives lacing through the stone and dirt. 

There were screams, and blood tainted the spilling water, but the entire group had disappeared. Dream and his brothers in arms searched, but weren’t able to find the group of revolutionists.

That didn’t matter. 

A day later, Wilbur had approached Dream to discuss the terms of surrender. Dream felt slightly dissatisfied, because _what a boring way to end this,_ until the kid who could never keep his mouth shut spoke up.

“If you win, your nation gets their independence. If I win, I get both disks, and you all acknowledge that L’manburg never existed, and never will.”

Tommy nodded, holding out his hand. There was a fire in his startling blue eyes, a fire that had never once been dampened.

“Deal.”

Even if his rationality was smeared, his skills were sharp, and Dream didn’t miss.

Dream doesn't get taken by surprise easily. He’s always hyper-aware of every little thing around him, from the people breathlessly waiting to the fish in the water.

So when Tommy tumbled backwards, body not disintegrating, it was quite the shock. He hands loosened on the bow, enchanted wood clattering to the ground.

The scream of Tubbo, yelling that Tommy was on his last life, only made Dream’s hands shake harder. People started shouting, Punz running to get a healing potion even though it was hopeless.

Tommy was permanently dead.

His blood traced down his uniform, staining the wood under him and tainting the water red. Who knew the human body had so much blood?

Dream shakily told Fundy, the only one not blinded with grief, that L’manburg could have independence. The fox narrowed his eyes, before nodding curtly.

It was war. People die.

Yet Dream’s intention was never to kill. He looked at this whole thing through the same lens he looked through at his manhunts. It was a game, a fun little game that ended with him victorious. 

Dream didn’t know what to do. He sat on the edge of the path, where a boy had died by his own hands, and was openly told that he was hated. His former friend, a boy he looked at like his little brother.

He could only agree with the boy’s statement. What kind of brother kills their younger’s best friend?

Time passed. News traveled. A king and his father heard of the death.

Dream knew he had to run. They would not hold back, declaring war on him and only him. He would die.

He spent his last night sitting on Tommy’s old bench, listening to Mellohi. It wasn’t the real one, but it sounded exactly the same.

After an unknowable amount of time, George joined him. They sat together, watching the sun cast beautiful hues across the sky. Right then, Dream understood why Tommy ~~likes~~ liked sunsets so much. They really were a sight to behold.

He glanced across at George. Before he could say anything, his once-best friend raised his hand. “No, I don’t forgive you.”

Dream hung his head.

“Maybe one day,” George continued, “but not today.”

They spent the right of the time sitting in relatively comfortable silence, until George stood. His soft footsteps slowly faded away, until Dream was left alone, sitting on a bench, staring at the black sky.

Dream left the following morning. He walked through the Dream SMP, probably for the last time. He made sure to properly look everything over, intending to igraine it into his memory. It pained him to leave behind this land he loved, but maybe he could come back one day. Eret and George would do a good job ruling over the great land, which put Dream at some ease.

He hesitated at the portal, but only for a moment.

The nether was treacherous. The farther out Dream got, the less man-made structures he saw, until there were none left. It was him in unexplored territory, and he had to get as far as possible.

Sleeping in the nether was horrible, but it was better than being dead. He was forced to ditch his armor to keep his body temperature normal.

The nether was, quite literally, a hell-hole, but a livable hell-hole. As long as he kept away from bastions or anything stupid and risky, he was fine. He spent his time trading with piglins and riding across lava on striders. 

Dream, one ‘morning,’ had scrolled all the way up, through tons of messages in the chat. He finally reached the part where _it_ happened, and his eyes read the message telling of a death, in the midst of taunts and jeers.

He laid his head back, thudding on the netherrack. 

If only he didn’t get so caught up in it all. Maybe Tommy would still be living.

His clothes started to get peppered with burn holes. He couldn’t wear his mask because it constricted his breathing, but there was nobody around to see his face. 

At least, that was what Dream thought.

He was sitting on a ledge, staring down into the magma under him. The lava swirled, bubbles popping on the surface. He didn’t know how much farther he intended to travel, but he was getting tired of the nether conditions.

He sighed, turning and standing. He rubbed his eyes, catching sight of…

Dream blinked.

Tommy was standing there. He was slightly transparent, and Dream could see netherrack behind him. But that didn’t matter, because Tommy was _right there._

“Tommy?” Dream reached out a hand.

Tommy looked shocked. _“Dream, I-”_

He abruptly faded into nothing.

Dream stood there, unmoving, for who knows how long.

He didn’t end up sleeping for a while. He put his shocked adrenaline into traveling. He pulled one too many risky stunts, but he wasn’t focused enough to care. His mind was in a different place, thinking about what the _hell_ he just saw.

Eventually, Dream collapsed against a nearby wall. Lava quickly flowed downwards next to him, although he made sure to keep far enough away. 

He stared ahead, looking over the ragged terrain. Despite his exhaustion, sleep seemed to escape him.

He took the remaining time conscious to ponder about what he just saw. Tommy, who is _dead,_ was standing in front of Dream. Was Tommy a ghost, since he was transparent? Dream narrowed his eyes, trying to remember what Tommy looked like. He had a red shirt, and black pants, but that was all Dream could remember.

Dream laid against the warm ground, resting his head on his arms. Finally, sleep caught up to him, and like that he was out.

* * *

Dream woke up with a small groan. He rubbed sweat from his face, pushing his sore body into a sitting position.

Another day of walking. Yay.

At this point, Dream had convinced himself that Tommy wasn’t real. He had probably been hallucinating from overheating. Because Tommy was dead, and Dream killed him.

The man stood with a stretch. His body protested, demanding to rest in a better environment. Dream ran a hand through his long, messy hair, scanning the area to decide where to go. 

He looked back forward, and did the hardest double-take ever.

Tommy was standing there again. He was looking around with a slightly disgruntled expression, until his blue eyes caught sight of Dream. He smiled a little, raising his hand in greeting. _“Hey, Dream.”_

And that’s when Dream realized that Tommy was a ghost.

Well, not technically a ghost. 

Tommy explained, albeit not that well, that he was currently in this place called the afterlife. Apparently, when players die, they get this ‘last chance’ to live again. Tommy didn’t seem to know how that was even possible.

The boy looked around with his dull eyes, once-vibrant blue lacking the blazing flames that usually lit up his entire face. He looked relatively the same, although he seemed to have traces of red dye in his messily tied up hair. Small scratches adorned his arms, dust sprinkled across his black pants and boots.

It wasn’t until Tommy faded into thin air that Dream realized he hadn’t been wearing his mask. Well, it didn’t matter now, did it? Tommy just lived with the knowledge of what Dream looked like. Maybe ‘lived’ wasn’t the right word.

Dream finally got the social company he needed, despite it being in the form of a dead teenager whose emotions seemed washed out. Tommy had shown up the next… night? Day?

He had looked around with a disdainful face, giving the lava and red mushroom trees a glare. Dream narrowed his eyes a bit, amusement turning the corners of his mouth up slightly. “Nice ponytail, Tommy.”

The boy’s head whipped back to glare at him. An allusion of anger seemed present as the boy snapped back.

Dream’s smile became gently apparent. He watched Tommy awkwardly accept the compliment Dream gave. He wondered idly if this is how brothers act.

Dream was about to tell Tommy about his whole runaway thing, but Tommy cut him off. _“Well, uh, maybe tell me another time, yeah?”_ The boy abruptly faded into thin air

Dream sat for a moment, wishing there was a way to rewind time. Anything to go back and stop… well, everything. He let out a sigh in a pitiful attempt to expel his emotions, picking up his mask. A small crack spider webbed across the enchanted plastic. He shoved it into his inventory, staring out at the red haze with regretful eyes.

“Yeah. Next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not that proud of this chapter but eh
> 
> (talking about canon tommy) i headcannon that tommy's eyes are still dull, even living with techno. you cant tell me that he automatically got better and his eyes just magically started shining again.
> 
> I SAW A SHOOTING STAR TODAY IS THAT POGGERS OR WHAT!?
> 
> if youre a gamer you should follow my instagram [tayez_x](https://www.instagram.com/tayez_x/)


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy goes searching for the stronghold, a heavy weight in his chest as he yearns towards the End.  
> Is it the End? For him?  
> Is this the End?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! You have probably no idea who I am - and that's okay, because hi! I'm Aria, and I know I won't do as well as Tay did, but I'm going to try my hardest to finish this story! (A wonderful thanks to them for making it as far as they did, and I'm sad that they lost the motivation - but it happens constantly with writers :) love you Tay)
> 
> Sorry in advance for any plotholes/items missing, this was a spur of the moment decision (which I thoroughly do not regret, but still), and I hope that what you want to happen comes to pass!
> 
> ~Aria

The eye of ender felt heavy in his hand. 

He stared at it - it seemed to stare back with the terrifying gaze of the endermen and the fiery heat of the blaze powder he'd used to make it. There were eleven more tucked away - he swallowed and prayed none would break in the process. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he could see a flickering image of _someone_ there, but he glanced back fully and it was just part of the empty plains biome. He sighed, weighed the eye in his hand, and tossed it up into the air in a random direction - starting his journey towards the End.

Ha. That was a funny joke. 

He watched as it defied the gravity and took a sharp ninety-degree angle to the left, twirling in colors of blue and green and bearing sparkles of purple as it flew. Tommy jogged after it, his sword sheathed at his side as he kept his eyes on it. 

After about twenty feet, it dropped, and he sighed as he caught it safely without it shattering in the warmth of his palms. Tommy glanced once more over his shoulder, at the empty plains; the glowing grass that waved slightly as if in goodbye - and shouldered his pack and then headed into the forest. 

He kept his hand on the sword, but because he was traveling aboveground, there were no mobs to be seen except the occasional zombie growling at him from the eaves of a cave. He saluted them smartly as he passed - they could do no more than wail at him and get burned by the sun that shone hot overhead. 

Two days.

Two days it took him to find the stronghold. Two days, and on the very last throw, one of the eyes of ender shattered, leaving him with eleven.

Tommy felt something break on him inside, just as the eye had broken before his eyes, the shards raining down upon hills that he was situated in. He didn't _want_ to go back to the hot realm of the Nether. He didn't _want_ to look at the scary dark monsters that dropped the pearls, and he didn't _want_ to get injured from their hard hits.

He bit his lip, grabbed his pickaxe, and dug into the mountain to his left, where the eye had been drifting to until it shattered. He struck a torch with shaking fingers after an incident with gravel left him in the near darkness.

And then he hit stone.

No - not like the stone that surrounded him, yellow and flickering in the light of the too-bright torch. No, like stone that had been carved and made in either a grindstone or by hand with a carving tool - and as Tommy reached out a hand and touched it, he could feel the _age_ of it at his fingertips. 

He let out a breath, and something in him was sure that there were eyes on him as he took his monumental step - a step that hadn't been taken since the age of Technoblade. He raised his pickaxe and the stone before him crumbled - and he was left staring at a hallway with the same bricks covering the floor and walls and ceiling. A single iron door lay at the end of the hallway, and Tommy held his breath as he raised the torch higher, casting shadows that he was sure hadn't ever touched his place in a long, long time.

Perhaps in millennia. He didn't know how old this place was.

His steps echoed on the stone as he took them, his sword out - wary, waiting for resistance. He wasn't sure what exactly he'd find down here besides the empty portal - if there were mobs or spawners that would jump out at him.

Tommy kicked down the iron door. It clanged loudly as it banged open, and he felt a surge of silent pride at his strength. Sure, it wasn't _quiet_ by any means - but the satisfaction overwhelmed any growing sense of fear. 

_Technoblade would be proud._

He swung his sword and chopped off the head of the spider that leaped at him from the corner as he rounded the hallway, its glowing eyes fading as it lost its head.

He sighed when he saw that the stronghold split off into two separate paths, and he squinted down each. The first one, to the left, led to some sort of jail area, but he could see light glinting from an unknown source beyond a second iron door. The second pathway led off around a curve, but he could see a staircase if he tipped his head to stare around the jagged stone corner. 

"What would Wilbur do?" he murmured, more to himself than to the six ghosts who, unbeknownst to him, followed him step for step. He tilted his head for a moment, thinking of the taller brown-haired man, before throwing his hands up in disgust. "Oh, what am I even thinking. Wilbur would be smart enough to not get in this mess in the _first_ place."

He could have sworn there was a noise of agreement behind him, but he was too busy pointing at each of the hallways with his sword.

"Eenie meenie minee moe - "

It landed on the passageway to the left, and he took one final glance towards the stairway passageway before heading past the jailed bars. He raised his torch to shed light upon the path, noting with glee the creepers that were trapped inside the jail, hissing at him irritably as he stuck his tongue out at them. They were unable to do anything as he passed, besides hissing and growling at him, and he smirked at them before kicking down the next iron door. He could have sworn he heard an empty sigh before the metal clanged against the wall to the right, announcing his entrance to the...to the library?

He wrinkled his nose as the smell of thousand-year-old books filled his nose, their mustiness reaching every gland in his nose. "Fucking gross," he muttered, more to himself, holding up his torch and waving away the many spiderwebs connecting the bookcase with sticky white lines of silk. "Books."

He knew Technoblade would have loved this place, and so with a cursory glance around for monsters, Tommy sighed and put the torch into one of the sconces, made of rusted metal, but still holding strong, that lay attached to the walls. The wood from previous torches was long gone; rotted or taken away - he didn't know. He kept his sword in his good arm as he shifted away the dust and cobwebs to grab one of the random books.

Perhaps, he realized, in another world, another stronghold, Technoblade had been here once - younger, brighter, childish - would have ventured through the library with wide eyes and a yearning for reading. Perhaps Technoblade had stood where he had - in another place, another time - perhaps he had stood many times in a strongholds' library with wonder in his eyes.

Perhaps, Tommy realized, that was why Technoblade seemed to know so much. Because - despite his lack of mentioning the afterlife - he had read these books from another world. Tommy frowned as he opened it and failed to comprehend the illegible symbols that were written in scrawly handwriting; cramped paragraphs of many many figures. He didn't know if it was a story or notes about how to obtain women, but he snapped it shut with a frustrated noise, his eyes lingering on the gold engraving on the front of the book.

**ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᓭℸ ̣ 𝙹∷|| 𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᓭᒷ⚍ᓭ**

Tommy rolled his eyes and shoved the book into the shelf, wincing as he upended what had to be a century's worth of dust and webbing. He had not an inkling what the book said, nor why it was important in the slightest. It probably was just some shit on how to play the guitar, or something.

Wait, did they even have guitars a million years ago?

Tommy scoffed and grabbed his torch from the sconce, throwing away that thought as he made his way through the maze of shelves. He saw a chest, and was excited - but all that was in it was a few glowing books that he knew to be enchantment books, but were written in the same language as the other ones. 

He'd always gotten Phil or Techno or Tubbo to read his enchantments. It hadn't seemed important; learning to read and write in a lost language - but now he cursed his stupidity. It wasn't like he could just pick up the enchantments and hope and pray that he put it on the right tool or piece of armor - it wasn't like already-enchanted items, which were easier to pick out what enchantment it was - these were _books_ , and they could be _anything_ ; even Curse of Binding, which always made him feel constrained for hours and hours. 

So reluctantly he replaced the books back into the chest and opened the rotting wooden door that led onwards.

It took him about twenty minutes - and four zombies as his torch dwindled - but he found the portal room.

There was a light keening in the air, as if it signified the _end_ of all things, and he wasn't particularly sure if it was warning him away or, like a siren's call, drawing him closer.

The bugs that were biting at him - he was sure they were called silverfish, and he'd come upon them while mining in L'manburg, but never like _this_ \- never in this abundance, in such an old place - annoyed him enough that he stopped thinking about the forewarning tune of the strange blue and yellow _frames_ and focused on stomping on the silverfish.

He also learned, to his annoyance, that if he didn't stomp them out quick enough, they called their friends; slithering out from the stone cracks to come attack him as well.

Tommy ended up sweeping them with his sword and flinging them into lava. He sort of enjoyed their plops and awful little screeches. He took out his pickaxe and mined the hive that they'd come from, reveling in the peace that came with the lack of annoying bugs squealing at his feet.

The barely-there music flooded back into his ears, and as he turned his head, he realized that there wasn't really a specific place that it emitted from - it was just _there_.

He climbed up the stairs and looked at the twelve dark aqua and sickly yellow end portal frames that circled a small pool of lava. The eleven eyes in his inventory seemed to glow - like they had met their pair. He noted with a small noise of surprise that two of the frames had eyes of ender already nestled in the dark, gaping hole that made up the other ten. 

One extra. He plucked out the eleven, one by one, walking around the edge and letting them slowly drift - as if magnetic; though no trace of metal or magnets seemed to take part in either the eye or the portal frame - into the darkness. Each placement seemed to _right_ something inside the room, the faint music in his ears growing louder - until he placed the final eye in the room and a loud noise blasted from all twelve frames; exploding outwards in green and navy light. Tommy was shoved against the wall, thankfully not falling into any lava, and he picked himself up, shakily walking back up the stairs to stare at the covered lava pool. He tucked the final - and unecessary - eye of ender - into his inventory, feeling the magical glow of it tug towards the portal before going silent. 

An endless abyss of stars stared back at him. In fact, Tommy was sure that he was staring up, and it was an incredibly nauseating experience that made him stumble back slightly and focus on the unmoving stone bricks instead of the endless constellations.

He took a deep breath, patting down his pockets - making sure he had everything. Or maybe he was just trying to extend the length of time he spent in this room.

He could go back, he realized. He could go back to - to Blade and live out the rest of his life knowing he was truly alive. He could go back and not have to face this monstrosity of a beast that lay in the end. Tommy scowled, shaking his head and trying to rid himself of those cowardice thoughts.

And with one last inventory check, he put his crossbow in the other hand, his quiver tied around his waist - _deep breath in, deep breath out_ \- and stepped forward into the universe.

* * *

_"He did it,"_ Dan whispered. _"He made it."_

Aphmau scowled and punched at the glowing arm of the blue-haired ghost. _"He hasn't won yet."_

_"He's gotten farther than any of us,"_ Pat pointed out gruffly.

The Captain nodded seriously, glancing back at Sky, who motioned him forward.

With little dignity, with little pride, the six ghosts dropped into the portal as well, following the boy to the End.

To perhaps _his_ end. 

* * *

Blade heard the loud noise of the portal opening echo across the landscapes, scaring some of the villager children that had been scampering across the marketplace. He pulled out his communicator, sitting down on the porch stairs. Jerry opened the door, the corners of his mouth wrinkled up in a proud - yet cautious - grin. "Well," the older man said after a moment. "He did it."

"Of course he did," Blade said. "He was trained by the best, after all."

Jerry chuckled. "That he was," he agreed. "That he was."

Blade watched the sun set, the communicator clasped in his hands, and prayed that Tommy would go home.

One last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Like I said, it's not going to be perfect, sorry :(
> 
> <3
> 
> -Aria  
> (expect an update sometime within the week haha)


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy enters the End.

Unlike the nauseating feeling of stepping through the purple swirls of a Nether portal, Tommy _fell_. His feet went into open space and he let out a yell as the stone ceiling of the stronghold vanished - and then he was falling, falling, falling through the night sky, except there was nothing - not even a moon - but emptiness and the far away glowing of what he realized weren't stars at all, but something else.

Something more.

Tommy twisted as he fell, the wind whipping at his face as he scrambled to try to get some bearings of where he was.

_There_.

Something in the blackness, so dark it almost matched the backdrop; yet didn't have the starry movement of the atmosphere. Something purple and white and pink spun atop it, sending waves of light into the stifling darkness. If Tommy didn't know better, he would have thought that the light was muffled slightly by the mere air of the End, but then again - he doesn't know anymore, because his night visits with Dream in the real world always seem darker. 

The crystal atop the obsidian tower burst more clearly into view, and Tommy saw twelve more in the background, bobbing up and down without a care in the world. They seemed to taunt him as he fell past, and then there was a sickly yellow cobblestone-like block that came into the spectacle - hells, was that an entire island made of it?

A small platform of obsidian obstructed his view, seemingly random and out of place in the huge expanse of endstone, and Tommy closed his eyes, waiting for death to come.

Because - because this was where he died, right? This was _how_ he died - falling in the End because the portal was a trap and killed him -

His feet touched solid ground and Tommy's eyes snapped open, his mouth falling open a bit as he looked down at the solid floor beneath his boots.

He was...alive? And he hadn't fallen to his death?

The End doesn't answer his questions - why would it? He snorted, clutching his sword tighter as the purple glowing eyes of the hundreds of endermen registered in his mind. _Don't look at them, don't look at them_ -

He kept his eyes firmly on the ground as he took a shaky step off the obsidian platform. The endstone - end-cobblestone - felt _wrong_ under his feet.

And then he didn't care about the endstone anymore as the roar of the dragon took all thoughts from his mind. Tommy clapped a hand over his ears, wincing at the sheer _volume_ from the beast - as it soared overhead, only a dozen feet from hitting him; long and black and scaly and eyes full of _fire_ that burned as it looked at him. At what he _was_. An outsider to its realm - and yet he had to kill it. 

Tommy drew his crossbow and shot at it, smirking when the tip buried itself in the hindfoot of the dragon, slipping underneath a scale to plunge into the dragon itself. It roared in pain, and Tommy felt a surge of anticipating victory - before a huge beam of white and purple light exploded from the nearest glowing purple crystal atop the obsidian tower to connect with the dragon - and as Tommy watched the arrow clattered to the floor and the nearly nonexistent wound fixed itself.

_The crystals_ , he thought with horror. _They heal it._

The dragon wheeled around, purple smoke flying out of its breath, and Tommy gathered everything in him and dodged to the side, glancing over with sweat trickling down his face at the purple particles leaking from the endstone. He yanked his foot out of it, wincing at the burn from the - was that the breath? - of the dragon and pressing his chest to the floor as it wheeled overhead, flying into the darkness.

_I have to destroy the crystals._

Tommy swallowed, scrambling up and looking towards the nearest obsidian tower. It was _pure_ obsidian, it seemed, but obsidian, unlike some blocks, wasn't entirely smooth - as it was naturally formed - and had small grooves in it that he could fit at least a fourth of his hand into.

Tommy heard the far-out roar of the dragon - gulped nervously, put a hand on the cool stone, and began to climb. His sword rattled at his side, the crossbow on his back infinitely heavier as he climbed, sweat rolling down his brow.

Ten feet. Twenty. Thirty. _Forty_.

The dragon roared, and Tommy _jumped_ around the side of the tower, the claws of the beast slashing at where he'd been climbing just a second earlier. He scrambled to stay on, one hand clinging to it tightly as he fought for breath and stability, swinging his foot into a divot in the obsidian so hard that his toes cracked and tears came to his eyes. The dragon roared again - farther now, always farther after it struck, and Tommy reached up and pulled himself up onto the flat surface of the obsidian platform, gasping for breath. Light flooded his face, and Tommy stared in wonder at the gently floating end crystal - a mass of spinning purple in the center with red, like blood, spotted across it. Layers of glass, cube-shaped, circled it - but it was like the glass was intangible, for the layers of glass crossed each other over and over again like an endless dance.

Tommy was entranced as he stared at it, his jaw dropped. It seemed to sing a melody at him as he stood up, staring into its glowing depths.

Holy hell, it had a bedrock base. How was that _remotely_ possible? Bedrock was at the bottom of the nether, under the lowest lava pools and entirely unbreakable. Why was it _here_?

He spun and looked towards the other twelve towers, frowning in thought. He raised his crossbow and shot at the nearest one, stepping back when it exploded at the merest touch of the bolt. Even twenty feet away, he could feel the blast. Swallowing, and suddenly glad that he hadn't touched the one closest to him, Tommy aimed his crossbow at the next one.

As it exploded, much like one of Wilbur's sticks of TNT, the dragon roared - almost in pain. Maybe it _was_ in pain. Tommy felt a small trickle of sadness filter through him before he tossed it aside and aimed his crossbow at the next obsidian tower.

There was a sick satisfaction in him as he finished aiming at the towers, all save the one beside him.

He felt his neck prickle, and he jumped over the edge of the tower, fingers grasping the edge to save himself as the dragon swooped over it, claws screeching against the dark obsidian as it wheeled overhead, casting a shadow in a sunless land. Tommy hauled himself up, fear in every point of his body as he grasped the stone and looked at the dragon as it turned back towards him, mouth full of purple fire - but it was going towards _him_ , and his arms shook with the effort to hold himself at the edge of the obsidian. Peering behind him, he tried not to let the height get to him.

An idea popped into his mind - one that Wilbur would call outlandish and Tubbo would no doubt have followed him into. An idea so odd that he thought that it was really extremely stupid - actually, fuck that, he was _sure_ it was stupid - but he was already dead - what was he gonna do, die again?

Yes, actually, but as the dragon swooped towards him, reptilian eyes narrowed in anger, purple particles leaking from in between its razor-sharp teeth, Tommy hauled himself up and, as it careened to the side, surprised by his sudden movement and the sword in his hand, jumped off the side of the tower. As he fell, he turned and shots his last crossbow bolt at the crystal.

The following explosion was _just_ large enough to propel him onto the back of the dragon, and he grabbed onto one of the grey spines on its back, hanging on for dear life as it roared in surprise. He squeezed his eyes shut and held onto it as it crashed into one of the obsidian towers, its tail thrashing as it tried to get him off.

But Tommy was stubborn. If he knew one thing about himself, then he knew that he was stubborn and a Big Man - everyone had told him as much when he annoyed them even when they told him to stop. So he gritted his teeth and hung on, even when his fingers slipped and his palms tore, the sworn cutting into his palm.

He could have sworn there were people circling him, whispering _kill it, kill it, kill it_ , but that didn't make sense, so he ignored them as he hauled himself to fully straddle the back of the dragon.

He was riding a dragon.

Tommy yelled in excitement as the dragon did a flip in the air, still trying to get him off. He was sure had Phil or Wilbur been here, they would have been yelling at him to come down - but they weren't here, were they? He was dead, and they were alive.

_'Kill it,'_ someone whispered in his ear. He started, looking left, but nobody was there _, nobody was there_ , why was there a voice?

The dragon flailed one last time, and Tommy raised his sword and plunged it through the back, the enchantments shining and reflecting on the black scales.

The following screech of the dragon was enough to start him - and because they were tilted downwards, Tommy _fell_. One of the wings hit him as he fell, probably bruising him all over, and he hit the ground with a large smack and sat up, groaning and rubbing his head.

An explosion rent his ears in two, and Tommy screamed, clapping a hand over his head and kneeling farther into the ground as the largest blast of atomic sound he had _ever_ heard sounded out over the quietness of the End.

Light burst into existence, and through tear-filled eyes, Tommy glanced up - only to see the body of the dragon, seemingly frozen in space, shining white light coming from every part of its body - bright, bright, bright, like the sun had come alive in the dark depths of the End.

He watched as his sword dropped, clattering in between two enderman atop the endstone, who chittered at it angrily before proceeding to go back to aimlessly walking around, purple eyes glowing as they searched for a target that would look them in the eyes.

Tommy walked forward on shaky legs, one hand clutching his chest as he stumbled forward, blinking at the bedrock portal that had appeared during the loud noise the dragon had emitted. Even as he watched, the bright light faded and the dragon's body turned to nothingness, vanishing as surely as one did when they respawned. 

He put a hand on the edge of the portal, swallowing thickly as realization crashed through him, heavy and harsh.

He - he had _done_ it.

He had beaten the ender dragon. He had _won_. He...he could go home.

The bedrock felt cool under his touch, and for a second he wondered if this was...just a dream. If this was _truly_ real.

Something flickered out of the corner of his eye, and Tommy spun to see a ghostly figure of a man whose clothes were similar to Technoblade - black pants, a white tunic, and a red jacket with golden buttons. Instead of pink hair, he had dark brown and blue eyes that shone behind ghostly red shades. 

"Hey, kid," the man said, tucking his hands into his pockets. When Tommy squinted, he noticed that the man flickered, as if not entirely there.

"Who are you?" Tommy demanded, sort of rudely.

"I'm CaptainSparklez."

Tommy's jaw dropped, thinking of the journal entry he'd read. "You're the one from the book," he said dumbly.

"Yes, I suppose so," Captain said warily. "Dying to a baby zombie was an eye-opening experience." He tilted his chin, as if listening to someone before shaking his head and looking back at Tommy.

Tommy licked his lips. "What - what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for someone to do something that we never could," Captain said truthfully, and Tommy glanced around, confused on who the 'we' was. Nobody else was here. "Enabling us to go home."

Tommy turned his head and stared at the starry portal; closely matching the sky of the End. "I..." he trailed off, lost for words.

"You did this, Tommy," the Captain said, not unkindly. "You can go home now."

He stepped up to the edge of the portal, turning back to the Captain at the last moment, hesitating before he could step through. "What - what about you?"

"We'll never be alive in the truest sense," CaptainSparklez said, a bit of longing and mourning in his voice. "But...I would like to see my wife again. I'm sure the others will as well."

He didn't know who the others were - but - but the flashes of the journals he'd read and the dreams he'd had were good enough to give him an idea of the others that had failed in their journey. He swallowed, shuffling to the end of the portal.

"Oh - and Tommy?"

He turned back, a lump in his throat.

"Thanks, bud," CaptainSparklez said with a wide smile, and for a second Tommy could have sworn he saw five others beside him, smiles on their faces.

When he blinked, they were gone, leaving him in a realm full of Endermen and obsidian towers. Tommy took a deep breath, grasping his sword in his hand.

He didn't know why he was terrified.

He closed his eyes and stepped through the portal.

**_TommyInnit has made the advancement [Free the End]_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said it's not perfect :)


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

I see the person you mean.

Tommy opened his eyes at the voice. Or rather - it wasn't a voice, not really. It was more...a trickle of thought, like water off a bridge; or the nearly nonexistent hum of someone deep in thought. It wasn't there, not really - yet he heard it all the same.

TommyInnit?

He was different.

He floated in the blackness, unaware of anything but the feeling of seeing. Two people stood in front of him - if standing on nothing, with nothing behind them, could count as standing at all. One had honey skin, with a teal shirt and a pair of blue pants; grey shoes completing the look. His hair somehow managed to look both messy and neat at the same time.

The other one was an oranged-haired fair woman, who wore a pale green tunic and leather leggings. She turned towards Tommy as he did, forest green eyes meeting his. The other one had purple-blue eyes as he followed the girl's gaze towards him.

Instead of feeling panic under the scrutiny, all Tommy could feel was the intense emotion of calm.

Yes.

The man talked, but it was a blur of words, and Tommy could not see his mouth move.

Take care. He has surpassed many. He can read our memories now. 

The woman shook her head, a smile playing at the curve of her lips.

That matters not. He deserves to know.

I like him. 

It wasn't quite telepathy - they didn't have the same set of words that made up language. It was more a blur of pictures and emotions that Tommy could see and feel in his head.

He did well. He did not give up. 

He deserves to know. 

I will tell them a story.

The blackness vanished, as did the man and woman. In its place stood a world devoid of seemingly life - no villages, no people. Tommy glanced around and saw the man standing there, back towards him.

The man turned - but no, it wasn't the man from the blackness, it was another man - a man with white eyes that glowed with malice and hatred.

"Herobrine," a voice growled, and Tommy jumped as the man from the darkness stalked past him; the man with the blue shirt and the brown hair. Tommy waved his hand for attention, but neither of them paid attention.

Memory. This was a memory.

"My dearest little brother," the not-man hissed back. Tommy felt the sheer power behind the words as they were spat.

"Were you jealous?" the man asked.

Herobrine looked taken aback. "Jealous? I am not jealous of them." Something flickered in the corner, and Tommy saw a village burning before the wildlife changed back into its green self. No fires, no screaming, no houses burning.  
"Then why did you take their lives?"

"They do not deserve to live over and over!" Herobrine bellowed, gripping a sword in his hand that, surely, had not been there before. "Steve, think of it! They live again and again and they do not learn!"

So what?" Steve asked calmly. Calm. Collected. Had someone been yelling at Tommy, he would have retaliated.

Perhaps that was why he was dead.

Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.

He reads our memories. 

Tommy frowned at the echo of the pictures in his head.

"To tell them how to live is to prevent them from truly living!" Steve insisted.

"It matters not!" Herobrine roared, his eyes glittering with anger. "They live and they die, again and again! I changed that - they only live once, now! It is for the better!"

"Then you, my brother, have changed," Steve said, almost wistfully, before pulling out a sword made of glittering diamond.

The memory vanished milliseconds before the two swords would have touched in a brutal clash of family.

Good. 

Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel the air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things. 

"Who are you?" he asked into the darkness.

Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. Steve. Alex. The words change. We do not change.

Tommy blinked again, and the darkness was gone, replaced by another world - another place, and Steve stood there with the woman who must be Alex, her orange hair waving a bit in the wind.

"Have you done it?" she asked Steve softly.

Tommy noticed the blood on his sword.

Steve nodded tiredly.

"I am sorry, Steve," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But this was the only way."

"I should have done it sooner," he murmured. "I spared him because he was my brother, and thousands died because of it."

"Still more may yet die," Alex said seriously. "I have not been able to reverse what he has done. His taint runs deep in this universe."

"Anything?" Steve asked desperately.

"A bit," Alex said. "They do not have infinite lives anymore. Only three, in wars. Only three, and no more."

"That's all?"

"I think...I think I have a way of returning those that are worthy," Alex mused. "It will be hard...but we can create an After. An afterlife, of sorts. A quest for those who truly want to go back to their home. A second chance at life."

"Can we do it?"

Alex stared at Steve. "I think we can," she said. "I think we can."

We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, TommyInnit. To know you. And to be known, I shall tell you a story. 

Tommy shifted from the plains of Alex and Steve's murmured conversation and onto a golden field of wheat.

Technoblade stood before him. Far younger, without a crown, his hair just barely touching his shoulders. He looked younger than Tommy, with a sword in his hand. His vision was a bit to Tommy's right, and Tommy knew with a heavy heart that he did not see him.

"All I have to do is defeat this ender dragon?" Techno asked.

"Yes." Tommy spun to a villager standing there, the village in the background. The same one he'd come from. It was smaller, with fewer people; but it was there nevertheless.

"Sounds simple enough."

Classic Technoblade.

\- and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter - 

Technoblade was back. Older, now. A few more scars. But still startlingly young. The same golden field of wheat - larger, now. The same backdrop of the village. Bigger, now.

"Back again?" came the villager's amused voice.

"Of course," Techno snorted, but there was more wariness drifting there. Starting to settle.

"Three times, is it?"

"Four."

\- where a fleck of light in the corner of your eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order - 

"Again, Techno?"

"Oh, so we're finally on a first-name basis?"

Techno had a crown. He looked Tommy's age. Tommy frowned at him. How many times had Technoblade defeated the ender dragon? He certainly had never talked about dying, even going so far as to brag about never dying. His hair went down to his back, in a ponytail. His eyes glittered with the air of adventure.

"Well, you know the drill. Off to defeat the ender dragon."

\- to be visible for a moment to you, walking home on the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling good, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again -

"You need to stop coming back," the villager warned.

Techno snorted. "The boss is easy. Simple."

"Why do you die again and again?"

Tommy watched as Technoblade fell silent. "None of your business."

"Another war? Another revolution? What of the person you think of as your father? Your friends that are like brothers?"

Techno snarled. "They do not know. They'll never know. As far as they know, Technoblade never dies."

"One of these days you will fail."

\- and the universe said I love you.

The universe said you have played well.

The universe said everything you need is within you.

"Oh, Technoblade," Alex said mournfully, and Tommy gasped as he saw the broken body of the man that he looked up to so much sitting at the base of one of the obsidian towers. "How could you live so much just to fall?" She shook her head. "Many generations I have watched people come and fail - but you, you are something I have never seen before. Fifteen times without failure you have succeeded, and on the sixteenth, you will fall."

The universe said you are stronger than you know.

The universe said you are the daylight.

The universe said you are the night.

Technoblade did not respond. How could he? He was dead.

Dread filled Tommy. He - he did not know how that was possible. Techno - Techno was immortal. This was simply not possible.

Yet here it was.

"You still want to go back," Alex whispered, her glowing hands coming upon Techno's chest, her eyes closing - listening, listening, thinking. "Of course you do. I can do that for you, you know. Even though you have failed. I have grown attached to you, little hero amongst the stars."

The universe said the darkness you fight is within you.

The universe said the light you seek is within you.

The universe said you are not alone.

"But life... life is not free," Alex whispered, her voice somehow heard among the roar of the dragon in the background of the End. Tommy held his breath, waiting for a decision. "And other people need your knowledge, Technoblade. Knowledge that will be lost when you go back this time." She tilted her head. "What do you say?"

And with a whisper so faint that Tommy couldn't believe it, Technoblade whispered, "Yes."

Alex smiled fondly, like a mother to a son, and she withdrew something from Techno - a white glowing mist. Techno's body faded to nothingness, and in its place a young boy was born - a young Technoblade.

Blade.

"Welcome to the afterlife, Blade," Alex said, a smile on her face. "It is wonderful to meet you."

Tommy felt the shock flood through him. So. So this was how Blade had come to be - a part of Techno sacrificed so he could back. And - and that was why Techno had not mentioned an afterlife - because he did not know. He did not know, did not remember.

And the universe said you are not separate from every other thing.

And the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself.

And the universe said I love you because you are love.

Tommy opened his eyes to the blackness again. Alex and Steve stood before them, their bodies outlined in a glow, of sorts. They smiled at him, the memory fading from his mind - not forgotten.

And the night was over and you woke up from the dream. And you began a new dream. And you dreamed again, dreamed better. And you were the universe. And you were love.

Wake up.

_** TommyInnit has joined the game **_

__

_** TommyInnit has completed the challenge [A Warrior's Quest to Live Again]  ** _


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

Tommy took in a shuddering breath, smelling the familiar air far before he opened his eyes.

And then proceeded to roll over and choke on the air that flowed into his lungs, tasting the grit and dirt in the air as he gasped, coughing loudly and trying to expel the nasty air from his body. His eyes watered as he gathered himself, feeling the less-than-clean atmosphere around him. It was like a layer of something hung around him; muting the bright colors and flowery scents of what Alex had called "After". He waved a hand - a still-glowing hand - around, but felt no difference in the consistency.

Tommy got to his feet, still shaky from his fit, and took a small breath in, wrinkling his nose at the uneasiness he could almost _taste_ there. The spruce trees of the spawn zone towered around him; the walls still mismatched and patchy as it had been before; made from wood and stone and whatever else had been gathered when it had been built. 

Even still, the territory itself was muted, as if the color had been drained from it. Tommy rubbed his eyes, but the feeling did not go away.

However, his glowing hands drew his attention away from the muted background. He stared down in slight awe at the slight white light - barely visible - emitting from his hands; _n_ _ay_ \- his entire body. 

He let out a breath, relishing the lack of weight he felt upon his shoulders.

No more ender dragon.

No more quests.

Home.

He was home.

Tommy let out a strangled laugh as he stumbled towards the hole in the wall that led out - _out,_ out, back _home,_ back to his family.

No more sleeping on hard rock and clutching a sword to his chest and praying that he wouldn't be woken up in the middle of the night to some terrible monster attacking him. No more indescribable loneliness. No more wandering, searching, _looking_ _,_ _fighting_ in a quest that would bring him home.

No more watching the sunset and missing his best friend with every passing breath. No more flickers and memories of his lost music, his lost life.

He was home.

Tommy felt tears prickle in his eyes as he ducked out from under the low roof of the wall and saw the familiar mountainous landscape poking over the leaves of the gently swaying trees. He looked to his west - remembering Techno's scornful words at not being able to identify the cardinal directions - and smile softly when he saw the sun about to touch the horizon, the sky already splayed with golds and reds and purples. 

He took a single deep breath in, feeling the wind in his hair.

And then he ran.

Home.

His legs carried him the distance, despite being newly revived. They flew over dirt and rocks and over holes made by creepers and around abandoned structures, some of which he recognized with panging longing.

Still, not a person in sight. 

He rounded the corner, expecting to see _it_ \- everything - in sight, but he never made it as something collided into his chest. Tommy reached for the sword that wasn't there as he fell to the ground, rolling to the side and coming up with his arms at the ready, narrowing his eyes at his attacker.

There, sitting on the ground, mouth slightly parted and eyes glimmering from unshed tears - was Tubbo. There - _there, there, there_ \- was Tubbo, _his_ Tubbo, _his_ best friend. There, with a partially unbuttoned green shirt and dark circles under his eyes and mussed hair - there he was.

There he was.

"T-Tommy?"

Tubbo's voice rung in his head, completing part of a puzzle Tommy hadn't known he had. Tommy closed his eyes and drunk in the voice of his best friend - _f_ _amiliar, forevermore_ \- before reaching out and hauling the shorter boy up.

"Hey, Tubbo," he said softly.

The boy let out another broken sob, the tears flowing from his eyes and down what seemed to be permanent tear tracks on his cheeks, and this time when he crashed into Tommy, he was ready, and he braced himself in time to not fall as arms wrapped around his lower back and a forehead hit his chest. He laughed lightly reaching up and scruffing a lock of Tubbo's hair.

"Aw, come on, Tubbo," he said softly, feeling the other boy's tears stain his shirt - his _shirt_ _,_ new and reformed. "Don't be like that."

"You were _dead_ ," his best friend choked out, pushing away from Tommy and punching him in the shoulder, his eyes red and bloodshot. Tommy's heart dropped for a second as he looked into Tubbo's disbelieving eyes and saw hesitance. 

Hesitance to believe that he was real.

"You think death can stop the great TommyInnit?" he said, propping his hands on his hip in a poor imitation of a comic book hero. 

"Death can stop _anyone,_ " Tubbo whispered, his lower lip trembling. 

This time Tommy was the one to start the embrace, whispering words of comfort and friendship under his breath as two friends were reunited in a world. This time Tommy cried, wetness dripping down his cheeks as he clutched the smaller boy in his arms and was reminded of how much he missed _this_.

"Tommy?"

That voice he knew.

Tommy's eyes shot open and he spun around - spun around to see a shocked and haggard-looking blonde man standing there, one of his hands out to hold him steady as he swayed on his feet.

"You look terrible, Dream," he said simply.

Dream's eyes flashed with surprise. There was no sign of the mask that usually covered his face, and his piercing green orbs seemed duller, somehow. "How - what?" He put a hand to his forehead and rubbed it. "It was a _dream_ , it was a dream- "

"It wasn't," he said, releasing Tubbo from his grip and placing a calming grasp on his best friend's shoulder. Tubbo looked angry, his fists and jaw clenched as he glared at Dream, and the once-prideful man winced and turned away. 

"Tommy, I..." Dream said. 

He stepped forward, and Dream took a shaky step back from him. "Dream," he said. He knew that he should have felt some anger. Something - hatred.

But not even that remained in the lightness that dwelt within his chest. He smiled abruptly, meeting Dream's gaze.

"I forgive you," he said.

Dream let out a sort of choke-gasp, and Tommy smiled at him again. "You - you what?"

"I forgive you," he repeated.

"TOMMY!"

That voice - he knew that voice as well. He knew the anger behind it, and knew what it would entail - who it was _gunning_ for.

"TECHNO, NO!" Tommy rushed forward and pushed a surprised Dream out of the way, the arrow clattering against the rocks behind both of them. He scrambled to his feet, putting a hand out and spinning to face a certain pink-haired ruler, who had an arrow nocked and aimed directly at Dream's chest.

"Why shouldn't I?" Techno growled, releasing his grip on the feathers slightly. The bow shuddered under the effort. Tommy knew that Dream should be moving, but the green man behind him was silent.

"You're alive," Wilbur choked out as he rounded the bend. He looked a lot like Tubbo - haggard and weary and bearing dark circles under his eyes, but he was _alive,_ and Tommy smiled at Wilbur because of that. 

"Of course I am," he proclaimed proudly and then turned back towards the problem at hand. "Techno," he said again. "Put the bow down."

"Why should I?" Techno repeated, narrowing his eyes at Dream.

"Because I said so," Tommy said. "What are you trying to do, Techno?"

"Get justice on a murder," Techno huffed, and Tommy breathed a small sigh of relief as his fingers on the bow loosened; though the arrow still remained in Techno's hand. 

"If I don't want justice, you shouldn't deliver it," he said.

Techno gave him a bewildered look. "You don't?"

"I don't think I would be standing here if I did," he said. 

"Tommy, you're not thinking straight," Wilbur said, his eyes narrowed in on Dream. 

"I know what I'm doing," he said firmly.

"Dream _killed_ you!" Techno burst out.

"I KNOW!" he shouted. Everyone went quiet at his outcry. Tommy winced. "I know," he said again, softer this time. "Of course I know. But I forgive him."

"You can't just _forgive_ someone for killing you," Wilbur said.

He looked at the brown-haired boy, who bore a hint of untampered madness in his eyes and stared him down. "I'm standing right here, Wilbur," he said calmly, and Wilbur wilted a bit, violence fading from his body. "I'm not dead. Not anymore." He took a step towards Wilbur, keeping an eye out just in case Techno tried to shoot Dream anyway.

Luckily, Techno decided against doing that, though his glare should have melted Dream on the spot. 

Tommy reached out and hugged Wilbur.

Tubbo's hug had been melting and soft and so terribly _Tubbo_ in of itself. 

Wilbur's hug was different. His shoulders ached in the taller man's grip, but he persevered because he needed this - and knew that Wilbur needed this as well.

"Hey Wilbur," he whispered into his pseudo brother's shoulder. "I'm home."

"You're home," Wilbur whispered back, fierce - yet his voice shook. "You're _home._ And - are you glowing?"

"Alright, lay off the nerd, it's my turn," Techno grumbled, and the moment Wilbur let go of him, Tommy was squeezed so tightly by the pink-haired man that he gasped loudly. 

A drop of wetness hit his shoulder. "Are you crying, Techno?" he said incredulously.

"No," Techno muttered. "The path is very dusty."

"Aww," Tommy crooned. "He's _crying._ "

"Shut up, nerd."

"Tommy?"

Tommy pulled away from Techno and turned to see Phil standing there, open shock on his face, and his blue eyes teared up - just like everyone here, though Techno insisted that it was just a dusty road. "You're a bit late to the party."

_"I'm_ late?" Phil said, stalking over and grabbing him and pulling him close. _"Y_ _ou_ are dead!" He drew back for a second, appraising him. "And you're glowing!"

"No, I'm not," he grumbled. Hesitated. "Well, dead. I'm glowing because I'm cool."

"I, for one," Techno said, a slight quiver in his voice as he tried to control his emotions. "Would like to know how that is remotely possible."

"I buried you, man," Tubbo said, and Tommy smiled at him gently, trying not to break out into open sobs.

"I know," he said. "I know. But I'm back now."

"How?" Techno demanded.

He hesitated. There was a real question in Techno's eyes - no, he didn't remember his choice; the choice that Alex had all but had to make for him, and the creation of Blade in the Afterlife. He didn't _know_. Didn't remember. 

"I can't say," he said.

"Why?" Phil asked.

"Because I made a promise," he said. And while that wasn't true, he also wasn't about to let people start abusing the system the way Techno had - especially since Alex wouldn't favor them should they inevitably fail. "But it's not going to happen again."

"It shouldn't have to," Phil said, throwing a furious glare at Dream, who winced again.

Tubbo walked over and grabbed his hand tightly, and some part of Tommy knew that the shorter boy wouldn't be letting go for a long, long time.

"Welcome home," Wilbur said softly. "Welcome home, Tommy."

* * *

L'manburg was theirs. Everything he had worked for - everything he had _dreamed_ had come true. Wilbur told him so, though it had come at a horrible price - Tommy's final life, taken by Dream.

He was alive, now.

And afterward - afterward, as he lay in bed, listening to Tubbo's quiet snores on the bed after - as he had thought, his clingy friend had refused to go more than ten feet from him - he wondered about the future.

The territory he had fought for was his. His family - albeit not his real one, but his family nonetheless - was here. Dream was withdrawn, but despite everyone's avoidance of him, Tommy truly forgave him. He also knew that Dream suspected of what he'd had to do in the Afterlife, but Dream never said anything more than a casual look after his repeated explanation that he couldn't say. 

Tommy rolled over on his bed - warm, soft, so unlike the ground he'd slept on his adventure - and breathed in the warm air of the house sharply. It was still dirty smelling, and he had his covers covering most of his body because he still glowed - which Phil had never been able to figure out. 

But it was his home.

He reached over onto the bedside counter and grabbed his communicator, which shone dully in the darkness, save for the soft brightness that he gave out. His messages that he had sent from the Afterlife remained unread; as his communicator had been buried with him - stupidly, in his opinion, this whole _homecoming_ thing could have been avoided had they just not put it in his now-empty burial.

The numbers remained ingrained in his head. He typed them in softly.

_527423._

_Sending Invite…_

_Invite Pending…_

_._

_._

_._

_Send Message?_

**_YES NO_**

With shaking hands, Tommy typed in his message.

_[TommyInnit] hey big man. Thanks. For everything. :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys. it's me, taye.
> 
> i uh i just wanna say thank you to aria for taking this story up after i gave up on it. its honestly so amazing and she pulled of the ending perfectly. im still upset at myself for losing all motivation but im glad it got finished by a fantastic writer.
> 
> thank you all for supporting me until chapter twenty. this was the very first big fic i tried to take on, and although i didnt complete it myself im proud of myself for how far i made it.
> 
> again, thank you all for supporting both me and aria. its really cool to see so many people enjoying this lmao
> 
> i hope to see some of you in the future! check out [aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Cinabun/pseuds/Aria_Cinabun) because shes amazing for finishing this and her fics are honestly amazing catch me simping-
> 
> i guess thats it. i hope you have a good day/night! <3


	26. An Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maybe heroes can get happy endings, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i know the story ended but ive been wanting to write this very specific scene since i had the idea of ghosts so i figured i might as well put that urge to rest. this is also my apology for ditching the story lol - taye

The server got better.

Everyone had been overjoyed at Tommy's glorious return. All the women flocked to him- 

That was a lie. The only women were Niki and Puffy, and that would be weird. Everyone did have a really big party, though. Schlatt had snuck in beer. That was a fun night.

More people began to arrive at the DreamSMP after the declaration of peace. Dream finally got his conscience back, reverting back to his much healthier mindset as a young adult, right before he lost his mind in greed and power. Sapnap and George were beyond overjoyed that the Dream they lost had come back, and Tommy hoped they finally talked things out. The hunt for Dream’s death was called off, Techno and Phil returning to their kingdom in the cold. That didn’t stop them from visiting every time they could.

L’manburg flourished under Schlatt’s and Wilbur’s combined rule. With Quackity, a newcomer with great ideas, as their vice president, the country thrived, people building while a sturdy economy grew. Eret was eventually forgiven, being allowed back into L’manburg.

New arrivals never questioned the boy that glowed. People with odd effects were common, from animal ears to glowing eyes. Why should some boy who glowed in the dark be any different?

Tommy sat at the top of his beaten down blackstone tower. The sun was setting, a warm breeze messing with Tommy’s hair. He finally got the chance to cut it. He will admit, he did miss the long hair a little. The red dye had almost completely grown out, only leaving a few streaks. Maybe he could dye it again.

Nobody knew exactly what he went though, but that was alright. He wasn’t quite sure how to explain it, and he also didn’t want anyone abusing that power. Technoblade remained blissfully ignorant. People remained cautious of death.

Tommy did show Wilbur the ‘Wilbur sweater.’ He was slightly embarrassed, since it was just a white hoodie with neat stitches down the sleeve, but Wilbur thought it was the sweetest thing ever. Wilbur had Niki make a L’manburg flag patch for it. Tommy did not cry when he saw the patch. Nope. He did not. Any claims of him crying are false.

Tommy didn’t think he could ever properly adjust back to the dark, dull colors and air that felt muddy when it entered his lungs. But that didn’t matter, because he got to see Tubbo smile again. He got to hear Wilbur strum a guitar. He got to meet his idol Schlatt. He got to talk to Blade daily, even though they would probably never see each other in person again. He got to run without pressure, he got to laugh without fearful glances behind his back.

Tommy was living.

He noticed a presence beside him, suddenly appearing out of seemingly thin air. He watched out of the corner of his eye as a man came into existence, see through still but there.

Huh.

The two sat quietly for a while until the silence got to Tommy’s head. 

“Hey man.”

The ghost jumped. “Ah, shit dude, you scared me.”

  
  


The ghost pushed his dark glasses to rest on his forehead, despite his floppy brown hair getting in the way. He rubbed the purple amulet on his gold chain. Fingerless gloves were snugly fit onto his hands.

“Are you… uh, one of them?” Tommy asked. “One of the ghost fuckers, I mean.”

The man shrugged. “Sure am.”

They lapsed into another silence.

“...Don’t you have anywhere to go? Family to meet? Friends to see? Girls to- nope, nevermind,” Tommy cut himself off with an awkward chuckle.

The man let out a huff, pulling one leg up and resting his arm and head on said leg. “Yeah, uh, not really. Ross and Bareny and Mithzan… they’ve already moved on. They’ve got lives and families.”

“So… you just gonna stick around?”

“Yeah, I guess,” the ghost shrugged, picking at his shoe. “Got nowhere else to go.”

Tommy let out a small hum of understanding. “Never got your name.”

The man smiled, despite the emptiness of death in his eyes. “I’m Sky.”

“That’s a stupid name,” Tommy said immediately. Sky burst into hysteric-sounding laughter.

He eventually got his laughter under control. “You remind me of Mith.”

“I have no idea who that is,” Tommy replied in his usual Tommy-Esc Fashion.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Tomy shifted. The sun had almost set, Tommy’s natural glow making up for the darkness. “How’d you die?”

Sky didn’t seem bothered by the question. “I fell down the center of an outdoor elevator shaft. I shouldn’t have died, well, capital D Died. I... must have forgotten how many lies I had or something, ‘cause next thing I know I wake up in the afterlife.”

Sky finally met Tommy’s eyes. Sky blue eyes (bad pun) gazed back into his own. The gleam of life was gone, leaving dullness in its place. “How about you?”

Tommy turned back to the path in front of him. In the distance, he could see the floating lanterns in L’manburg. There was too much information to explain that night. Although, a ghost must have all the time in the universe.

“War,” he stated simply.

Sky whistled slowly under his breath. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Damn.”

Tommy watched a skeleton wander around, bones clanking. Some old fear told him to run, get a shield, don’t let it near you, _don’t let it near you-_

“Can other people see you?” Tommy abruptly asked.

Sky shrugged. “Not too sure. I think it’s for the best though.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t tell them about the afterlife. Unless you wanna explain all that-”

“No.” Tommy cut him off.

Sky just nodded. “You did good, man. Nobody else ever did what you did.”

“Techno did.” Tommy automatically responded.

“He doesn’t count.” Sky waved his hand dismissively. “You were one of the only people I thought really deserved to get back home. You really did earn it.”

“I got lucky.”

“Just take the god-damn compliment, Jesus.” Sky laughed again, and this time Tommy joined in as well.

Tommy decided he liked Sky.

“So… what now?” Tommy asked the dead man.

Sky narrowed his eyes at the distant lights. “I’ll hang around, I guess. I don’t feel like I gotta leave. When I get bored here, I’ll probably go wherever I feel I should.”

“Do I got a ghost guardian now? God, that sounds stupid,” Tommy said, but a hint of a smile was on his face.

“I can’t touch much, solidifying is hard, but sure, man. Just give me all the gold you get. It’s rent.” Sky shot the teenager a grin.

“Sure, bitch.”

Tommy quite liked Sky’s company. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he hung around.

Eventually Tommy would die. It was inevitable. But death didn’t seem as scary, now. He’s done the impossible, the never-before. He got the good ending, the ending where he lived and nobody else died. And fuck, if he didn’t deserve a happy ending after all that shit.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sure this was unexpected but yknow writing brain told me to
> 
> shameless plugging lmao
> 
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/ttaye_z/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/taye_z)  
> [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/taye-z)
> 
> join aria's discord server! everyone in it is very pogchamp and friendly and we will yell enthusiastically at you when you join: https://discord.gg/6Pfvb5b
> 
> that's it (for realsies). i hope you have a good day / night! <3


End file.
